


taking care

by EriSakimoto



Category: Naruto
Genre: Mother!Reader/Naruto, Reader doesnt have a name but is feminine, This is the adopting Naruto fic I wanted and so i wrote it sorry, i switch tenses like a madwoman i am also sorry, i'm a moron with cannon timelines but c'mon this show is too long to keep itself consistent, it IS an reader/ story but there's no shipping, just some flirting here and there, old and cringe writing in places, really never planned to post this and it shows, wrote it for myself so i wasnt worried abt keeping it gender-neutral sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26159623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EriSakimoto/pseuds/EriSakimoto
Summary: An honest, hardworking baker has her purse stolen by a dirty whisker-faced little boy who hasn't been taught a single manner in his short life. What's the Leaf Village coming to these days?>The "reader adopts Naruto fic" I wanted to read and eventually was goaded into writing by a friend. This has sat partially finished in my drafts for like two years, until I recently started re-watching Naruto and had the urge to finish it. The writing is VERY patchy and downright bad in places to reflect that this was written as a self-indulgent thing for me and said friend, but I may pull chapters and revise them from time to time. There's only a chapter left for me to write before I finish it and if people seem to like it I plan to write a sequel with Sasuke.
Relationships: None
Comments: 24
Kudos: 45





	1. Part The First: In Which Bad Decisions Are Made

**Author's Note:**

> As with all my stories, I start with short chapters and then get progressively more long-winded. You'll notice this pattern here as well. Also I think the tone of this one is a lot lighter then the bulk of the main story, but maybe that's just me as I'm re-reading this. I don't know why I tried to make reader such a flirt in this first chapter but it does go away with the story's progression, don't worry. Also Yoshino (I think I muffed her name a few times in this) is Shikamaru's mother, for anyone that is confused. Also, let's get a big "F" in the chat over me trying to make Hiruzen a) a good person and b) a halfway decent Hokage

The first bad decision was not wearing heels.

Usually, wearing them was the bad decision, but today was an exception. They looked cute in the morning mirror, but by the end of the day you had a foot full of blisters and a lot of regret. Today, you’d opted for comfortable shoes and compensated by adding a nice necklace. You looked cute, and that was only fair, because it was your first day off in weeks, and the weather was nice, and things were supposed to be perfect.

Four months ago, you’d packed up everything you owned (which wasn’t much) and relocated to Konohagurame, The Village Hidden in the Leaf, from your own small village not far from here. It had been what you called “a leap of faith”, having never been out on your own before. It had been rough for a few months, scrimping and saving and doing odd-jobs, but somehow, you’d managed to feed yourself, open a little bakery, and afford a small apartment. You’d even managed to make friends with a few of your customers, which given what a small tight-knit community the village was and your endlessly busy schedule, was kind of amazing. The culmination of your victories was buying yourself a newer, cuter purse.

It was green, and sparkly, and bigger and far more expensive than what you needed, and you couldn’t wait to casually show it off to one of your new acquaintances at lunch today. That was bad decision number two. Yoshino, the friend who you were meeting at the café in the center of the village, was a practical type of woman. Her husband headed some clan or another, and him and her young son had apparently grown addicted to your cinnamon buns since the shop opened. It was lunchtime, on a Sunday, and the village was bustling. As you waited for Yoshino, casually browsing a menu, you people-watched, with an interested detachment in how everything seemed to work together like clockwork. Two tables down from you, a father and son, both chubby as could be, munched down on sandwiches. To your left, a group of ninjas-in-training, elementary school boys, sweaty and tired, were headed to lunch with their sensei. Across the street, the owner of the ramen shop seemed to be trying to placate a little blob of white and yellow that you could only assume was a small boy.

You were so caught up watching their interaction that you almost missed Yoshino when she greeted you. You fell into easy conversation with the older woman, mostly listening to her complain about the trials and tribulations of raising a young boy while you browsed the drink menu.

“He’s just like his father,” She said, tone trite but smiling nonetheless, “Doesn’t want to do anything except lay around and day dream all day. I would go stir-crazy sitting around like that, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, humming in agreement as the waiter (finally) sidled up to your table. He took your orders and disappeared back into the throng, and you zoned back into Yoshino on some other spiel about sending her son to help at the bakery.

“You wouldn’t have to pay him of course,” She was saying, “cause’ I know he’d be a lazy worker. But I’ve got to find something to do with him this summer while school’s out or I just know he’ll fritter around all day and…”

It was the little gasp in her voice that caught your attention, otherwise you would have missed it completely. Her eyes had drifted off of you and to the right, and when she stopped talking all you saw was a quick flash of white and yellow and pink sparkles. It took a minute for you to process what had happened, and Yoshino stuck out a finger and said unhelpfully,

“Your purse!”

And it was, indeed, your purse. Clutched tightly in the hand of the little boy from the ramen shop, currently disappearing in the other direction. And this was where all your bad decisions came to a culmination, starting with your choice of shoes. Because maybe, if you’d been wearing heels, your tired feet would have said, ‘stuff it’ and done the normal thing, and called the authorities. But instead, you jolted from your chair, and went running after the kid full speed.

And by God, he was fast. You rounded two buildings behind him, saw him stop in an alleyway and start rifling through your bag, catch sight of you huffing and puffing after him like vengeance itself, and take off again. He vaulted a wooden fence with surprising agility for someone with such short legs, and made it another three blocks, darting in and out of people. He probably would have evaded you this way, if it weren’t for the mop of yellow hair and the sparkle of your purse. You saw him dart into another alleyway, this time a dead end, and so you flattened yourself against the side of a building and waited.

He scanned the crowd with wide blue eyes, back and forth and back again, before a little grin took over his whiskered face and he ducked back into the shadows. You pounced then, rounding the corner and grabbing him as he proceeded to dump the contents of your purse out on the gravel. He squealed in both anger and surprise as he was hoisted aloft, and you snatched the purse from him, dismayed as a large ripping sound was heard.

“Let me go! Let me go!” Little legs clad in dirty shoes kicked at you, and grubby little hands tried to reach your face. You dropped him, but caught his wrist in one hand and held tight as he struggled.

“It’s…it’s ripped! You little punk!” Badly, too. Your expensive purse was a mess, one handle ripped partially off, sequins gone everywhere, and all your things scattered across the ground.

“Let me go crazy lady!" The kid was currently trying to claw at your hand to gain his freedom. His nails, like the rest of him, we're small and grubby and compared to your fiery anger at your purse being destroyed didn't do much.

"Where are your parents?!" You demanded, giving him a preemptive little shake to demonstrate your hold.

"None of your business!" He spat back.

"Oh, hell no." Swiftly, with one hand, you gathered up your scattered belongings, as well as a healthy bit of gravel, but you were too mad to care. Slinging the sad remnants of your purse's one remaining strap over your shoulder, you then bundled up the kid with both hands and held him like an angry cat. "Fine, you don't wanna tell me? Then we're going straight to the Hokoge offices. Cause' someone is paying for my purse.”

“Oh come on! I’m sorry OK?!” Still flailing and kicking in your arms, you ignored his pleas and began to march resolutely towards the tower, ignoring also the curious and frightened stares of those around you. Eventually, the boy’s attempts to free himself slacked off, and he seemed to resign himself to his fate.

He couldn’t have been much older than six, seven if he was really puny. His blonde hair was wild and untamed, stuffed under an oversized pair of goggles. He wore a too-big white T-shirt, shorts and sneakers, and his face bore little whisker-like marks that you couldn’t distinguish as being either marker or tattoos. You bustled through the door of the Hokage’s office like that, having been given no more than a sympathetic glance by the coordinator in the hallway. The elderly village leader, whom you had met only once, looked up from a desk full of paper work, took some quick assessment of the situation, and sighed. A long, defeated sigh.

“Naruto.” He said simply, his tired eyes turning to you, “What has he done now?”

Feeling at least somewhat safe that he wasn’t going to bolt now, you released the boy, who jerked away from you and crossed his arms, immediately going into a defensive pout.

“Sorry to barge in, Hokage-sama, but this boy tried to steal my purse in the marketplace just now, and it ended up getting ripped, and, well, I’d like to speak to his parents about it but he won’t tell me who they are.”

The Hokage furrowed his brow beneath the wide brimmed hat. “And what on earth are you stealing purses for, Naruto?”

The boy mumbled something under his breath, and then looked away.

“Speak up, child.”

“I said, I just wanted another bowl of ramen. I would have left the rest.”

“If you ran out of vouchers, I could have given you more.”

“I didn’t run out, I just wanted to try something more expensive.”

“Now this poor woman’s purse is broken, and she’s had to go through this whole ordeal.” He turned to you, acknowledging you finally. “I extend my apologies. Please let my secretary know what the damages totaled, and she will take care of it.”

You couldn’t believe it. The kid was getting off the hook with a mild scolding?

“Uhm, sir, if it’s all the same to you,” you began haltingly, “I don’t feel like it would be right for you to cover the damages. I’d really rather speak to his parents, since they’re the ones allowing him to run wild in the streets.”

There was something, maybe a slight twitch in the old man’s mouth, but his expression remained the same. “I’m afraid Naruto doesn’t have parents.” He said solemnly. “Please, allow me to take care of it.”

“A caretaker then?” You pressed, “Relative? I mean, someone has to be responsible for him, right?”

Silence. Your eyes drifted between the boy, who was now looking at you warily, to the Hokage, who wore the same expression.

“I’m afraid not.” He said finally.

You couldn’t help it. It just didn’t make any sense. Not that it made sense to argue with the man in charge of the village, or to chase down purse-snatchers, but the idea that this near-toddler was fending for himself?

“But…why?” You asked finally.

Silence again, and this time it stretched. The old man sighed,

“Naruto, please step outside and wait for us.”

In no mood to argue apparently, the child huffs, his eyes tracking you as he shuffles out of the room. For a minute you and the old man measure one another, and you can feel it. There's a heaviness to what he wants to say.

"I'm not trying to be difficult," you begin when silence grows uncomfortable. "It's just that this doesn't make sense to me. I know it's a small village but to leave a child on his own like that..."

"How much of our village’s history do you know?" He says, his wizened voice is quiet.

"I...I mean, I haven't really studied it..." You say truthfully.

"But you know of the Kyuubi that attacked the village seven years ago?"

"The...nine tails? Yes, of course. We sent medical help from our village."

"You would have been young then." He muses. "And what did they say, in your village, happened to the nine tails?"

A pause. You tried to remember specifics but came up blank every time. "They just...I mean, they said it had been defeated."

The Hokage rises, coming around the desk to pull out a chair for you. You sink into it uneasily as he goes on.

"Seven years ago, I was called upon to become Hokage again, and I made it a decree never to tell the story that I am about to tell you. The village of course has passed the knowledge on word-of-mouth, there's no helping that. And since you have asked I think it's only right to explain, but this information never leaves this room. Understood?”

You nod, the day suddenly feeling like an odd dream that’s shifted tone. “The Nine tailed fox was not killed seven years ago. It was trapped by an ancient and powerful jutsu, sealed inside an innocent vessel."

"N-no..." Things click together for you in slow motion. Seven years. The whisker marks on grubby little cheeks. "N-Naruto...the boy is..."

He nods, an aged finger against his lips. "He doesn't know. I've kept it that way. The knowledge may destroy him, and his emotions getting out of control could awaken the beast."

"B-but...he...he's just a kid..." You can't really wrap your head around it. "I mean, why would anyone...into such a small kid...?"

"It was his parent's decision." He says, and it's there. Some emotion in his voice that gives him away, that says he's not completely unmoved by this. "And both his parents lost their lives for the protection of this village. Naruto is the child of heroes, but his heritage is another piece of knowledge that would connect him with the fox"

"So...no one would take care of him? Even though his parents..."

"Respected as they were, the nine-tailed fox left in its wake great destruction and fear. Very few of the villagers that are left realize the connection between his parents and him, but they do know what he is.” He looks out of his window over Konoha, and you see the age weighing heavily on him. “The people of this village are good people at heart, but people who are scared and hurt need someone to blame. No one wants a timebomb in their home, sharing their meals and playing with their children. And no one wants the responsibility of caring for such a child.”

"So, he's just...been on his own? For how long?"

The old man's wrinkled eyes were stolid. "Since he could walk and feed himself. In the beginning I kept him, but as Hokage my caring for him would only lead to more speculation among the villagers."

You stand, the creak of your chair seeming unreasonably loud against the wood floors. “I think I understand.” You say when the old man turns to you.

“Then you’ll allow me to pay for your purse and let the matter rest?”

You shake your head. “No- I mean, yes, I’ll let it lie. But I’d like to talk to him.”

He raises an eyebrow, and you smile disarmingly. “Nothing like that, I won’t tell him. Just – if no one else is going to, I guess I better try and talk some morals into him, huh?”

To your surprise the old man breaks into a smile. “Please, be my guest. And good luck.”

*******

You find the kid sitting on the steps of the building, tracing shapes in the dirt with a stick and looking sullen.

“Hey, you didn’t run off. I’m kind of surprised.” You begin, sinking down next to him on the stairs. He looks at you curiously, up and down as though he expects you to attack him, before relaxing a bit.

“He’d just send Iruka-san or somebody to get me, so what’s the point?”

You wait a moment, watch as he traces another absent swirl in the dirt.

“You know, if you’d asked me for money for a bowl of ramen, I would have given it to you.”

“Sure, whatever.” He says, without removing his cheek from his hand. “I don’t think so lady.”

“I have a name y’know. And yes, I would have. Maybe things are different in two-feet-tall land, but from where I’m standing you’re a pretty cute kid. And saying no to hungry little kids is sort of difficult, believe it or not.”

The stick is thrown into the dirt. “People don’t like me, so I think you’re wrong.”

The casual way he says it, as though it’s just a fact he’s come to accept, normal as the sky being blue, pierces you through the heart.

“What…what makes you say that?”

He shrugs again, brushing off his hands (to no avail, they still look grubby). “Just don’t. I dunno. Maybe it’s cause’ I don’t have parents. Or maybe I don’t have parents because they didn’t like me either. Either way it’s the same, no one wants me, lady.”

You want to say something, argue with him, but words stick to your throat. He looks at you and maybe he sees you’re affected because he instantly changes tune, back into an arrogant bratty kid.

“Anyway, you got your purse money or what? Or is the old man gonna make me apologize?”

“You’re wrong. I want you.” It falls out of your mouth, completely unwilled, unplanned and unwelcome, and floats between you in the clear air of that beautiful Sunday.

“You…what?”

“I…have to talk to the Hokage. Don’t go anywhere.”


	2. Part the Second: In Which Even Worse Decisions are Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader makes a rash decision but really, what else can you do in these situations?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going ahead and posting the second chapter because the first was so short and...uh, I have time I guess. Any feedback is appreciate but do keep in mind, this was written two years ago and if your question is something like "why is reader such a bitch to Iruka in this chapter?" the answer is probably "?good question?" because I am just no longer in that headspace lmao

Today had been full of bad decisions, but they all melted under the one you were about to make. For the second time that day you barged into the Hokage’s office, only this time when he turned curiously you spoke before he could get a word in.

“I want him. Naruto. I’ll take care of him.” You say it before the logical side of your brain can catch up, so it comes out a jumbled mess of words. The old man looks sufficiently taken aback, but straightens himself up in a moment, regaining his careful composure. 

“I…I’m touched, but my intent in telling you that story was not to make you feel responsible for him. You are a newcomer to this village, and our problems are not for you to make your own. I promise you he is being fed and supervised…”

“No, it’s not that.” You say breathlessly. “I just…I think today has taken its own course. He’s never stolen a purse before, right? And I just happened to be the only one in the village who didn’t know who he was, who has no reason to hate him. I think…he needs me, and maybe this is what I’m supposed to do.”  _ Gibberish _ says your brain.  _ Take your stupid purse money and go! _

The Hokage takes a long moment to think. Finally, he walks past you to the door, and motions the guard over.

“Fetch Naruto please.” He turns to you as the man disappears into the hall. “You know this will not be without repercussions. I cannot guarantee that the village will be as friendly towards you, and Naruto himself is…quite a handful.”

“I know,” You cut him off, and then, “Well, OK, those are all good points. But I’m trying to stay positive here. Destiny and all that.”

The guard returns towing the little boy, who’s big blue eyes are full of confusion as he looks at you.

“This lady has very generously offered to take you in Naruto. Would you like that?”

The child looks from you, to the Hokage, and back again.

“She what?”

“She wants to adopt you Naruto. Do you accept?”

This time he looks at you, straight into your eyes. You don’t look away even though his gaze is intense

_ If there’s a monster in there,  _ you think,  _ it’s hidden deep within a very scared and lonely little boy. _

Finally, he nods. Wordlessly looking back at the Hokage.

“Very well,” Says the old man. “But since this was a sudden decision, we’ll consider this a trial period. After a week, we’ll see how you both feel, all right?”

You and Naruto look at each, and then nod. It feels kind of right, like you’re in this together.

Back out in the sunlight, there’s an awkward silence that you break. You have to, because every time there’s a moment of silence your brain, that good old organ of logic, begins screaming at you about what you’ve just done.

“So, I think the first order of business would be to get your stuff from your apartment, huh?” You begin, and don’t wait for him to answer. “I mean, my place isn’t that big, but I do have an extra room I’ve been using as a studio.”

“Why’d you do that?”

His voice interrupts your rambling. You look down at him, but his eyes are glued to the ground.

“Do what?”

“Ask to adopt me? I tried to steal your purse and then acted like a jerk about it. Is it…did the old man ask you to?”

You stop in the street, and kneel to his level.

“No one asked me too.” You say honestly. Since the whole village has been lying to him his entire short life, you can only hope he believes you. “I did it because it was the right thing to do. And clearly, you need someone to take care of you.”

Something shines in big aquamarine eyes, before he suddenly blinks it away, changes demeanor and looks nonchalant. “Hmph. Whatever you say Lady.”

“Yeah, about that. From now on how about calling me…”

“Y/N!” You turn at the sound of your name, to find Yoshino rushing towards you. Your friend that you’d left the in the marketplace before making a huge life-altering decision off the cuff.  _ Sigh _ .

“Yoshino I’m  _ so  _ sorry. I ended up in the Hokage’s office and things just got out of hand…

“So, it was  _ Naruto _ , eh?” She says, breathless, once she catches sight of the boy by your side. “Figured as much. What did the Hokage tell him to do to make up for it?” Her voice isn’t loud, but it’s certainly within earshot of the kid, who’s staring stolidly in the other direction with his arms crossed.

“He…uh, it’s sort of complicated. But I had a very good conversation with Naruto here about morals, right?” Here you prompt the blonde-haired boy with slight nudge, and he responds by turning further away and pulling a face. “He won’t be stealing anymore purses.” You assure your friend with your brightest and most confident smile.

Yoshino crinkles her brows in concern. “Y/n…” She grabs your arm and gently leads you a pace or so away from Naruto, out of earshot.

“I’m sure the Hokage didn’t have time to tell you…and it’s, it’s not something we’re supposed to talk about, but that boy…” You both glance back at Naruto, who’s doing a terrible job of pretending like he’s not trying to listen. “There’s something…he’s not… _ normal. _ Just be careful and don’t get too involved with him, OK?”

Unsure of what to say, you swallow and nod dumbly. Hardly a month and you were already ignoring advice from one of your only friends, but what were you supposed to say?

_ Oh sorry, would adopting him ten minutes after we met be what you consider ‘too involved’? _

You said your goodbyes to Yoshino, and continued in silence. If he’d been thoughtful before, now Naruto seemed downright perplexed, but he said nothing until you arrived at the corner building where his apartment was.

“I’m home.” He muttered at the door before pushing it open, and you almost, for a minute, expected there to be a man and a woman in there waiting. For this to all be some elaborate prank on you, the village newcomer. But the door opened to darkness and silence.

You followed the boy in despite his protests that he “would just need a couple things.” Mostly to get a feel for how a seven-year-old kept an apartment by himself. The results were…not encouraging.

“This is nasty!” You finally blurted upon entrance to the kitchen. “Why are there ramen cups everywhere?! You’ll get bugs! Ugh and this bathroom! Has this toilet ever been cleaned?!”

“Sheesh, you sound like the old man.” The blonde reappeared at the opposite doorway, with a duffle bag overstuffed with clothes slung over his shoulder.

“That’s  _ all _ you’re bringing?” You question.

“He said it’s a trial.” Shrugged Naruto, “So you might send me back. I don’t want to pull out everything.”

You frown, but let that one slide. He’s right after all, you’ve already made too many commitments and you have no idea how this is going to work. Still, the fatalistic outlook can’t be healthy at that age.

“OK, well let me see what you’ve packed.”

You clear the bedsheets and blankets off his bed, much to his chagrin, separating them by smell into “keep”, “wash” and “burn” piles respectively. Once that’s done you unload his duffel bag onto the mattress.

“This is it?” You question, “Three shirts, two shorts, what is this, a swim suit? And no underwear.”

“All my underwear is dirty.”

“We have washing basins for that.” You pull up a white T-shirt, holding it up to the boy in front of you, “Does this even fit? It looks small.”

“It’s my favorite shirt!” He says, trying to snatch it from you, “Sure it fits!”

You roll your eyes, but let it slide. “OK. Fine, grab two more pairs of underwear and some pajamas and we’ll call it good. But we’re going shopping tomorrow.”

You decide after much deliberation to bring the mattress but not the frame bed. You have a spare cot that you slept on when you first moved, but you know from first hand experience that it’s not very comfortable, so you figure he can put the mattress on that. Lugging the thing, even rolled up as it is, with Naruto following behind with the sheets and blankets and his clothes, creates a bit of a minor spectacle in the village. Thankfully though, it’s evening now and there’s less people out, and no one you know well enough to owe an explanation too.

“OK, we’re home.” You groan as you drop the heavy mattress on the ground, fishing for your keys. The bell jingles as you go in, and you turn back to see Naruto staring in awe at the sign.

“Wait, you live  _ here? _ In the bakery?”

“Not in it, above it, but yeah. I own the place.” You can’t keep the hint of pride from your voice.

“Wow.” Says the kid, and you can’t help but feel a little better about things, watching his eyes light up at the rows of muffins and rolls and cakes in the display case. He’s awful cute, no matter what he is.

He follows you as you struggle up the stairs. Your apartment consists of a master bedroom, a compact little living area, a bathroom and a sunroom with large bay windows you were currently using as a studio. The kitchen and a half bath were in the back part of the bakery downstairs, and there were two staircases that connected them, a main front one and smaller back one.

Your studio was your proudest room, filled with plants and flowers and cute décor pieces you’d found to compliment the natural light. Pulling your ugly army-style cot into the middle of it and plopping down a mattress and several duffels hurt your soul a bit, but it was necessary.

“OK,” You said once the sheets and blankets from the ‘clean’ pile were on. “It doesn't look exactly like a bedroom, but it’s livable. What do you think?”

Naruto was still standing in the doorway. In the short amount of time that you’d known him, he’d never looked so timid. Confusion was evident in his crystal clear blue eyes.

“So…” He started, voice quiet, “I get to live here? Like, all the time?” His eyes swept your bay window, your plants and knick-knacks, with a childlike sense of wonder. “And you’ll be here too? Everyday?”

You smile at him, “Of course. I live here too.” You move to sit on his cot, motioning for him to sit beside you, which he does gingerly. “I know it’s sudden, and strange.” You say, “but, when the Hokage told me you were all alone, it just felt wrong to me. I’m all alone too, and even though I’m an adult, it still sort of hurts to come home to an empty apartment, so I can’t even imagine having to do it as a kid. So, from now on, it’s me and you, OK? We’ll figure things out together.”

He opens his mouth to say something, eyes shining, but his stomach growls instead.

“Ah, grief.” You slap a hand to your forehead. “That’s right! You were hungry all the way back at noon. I’m such an idiot. A-plus parenting.”

You bustle downstairs with a now very excited child behind you.

“What are we gonna eat? Cinnamon rolls? Can I try one of these cakes?”

“Get real! That stuff is our living.” You open cabinets in the kitchen only to find (beyond the obvious bakery fair) meals that would need quite a bit more preparation than you feel like doing.

“You know what?” You say, turning on the child who’s bouncing at your heels. “New plan. Go grab what’s left of my purse, we’re going out for that ramen of yours.”

Ichiriku ramen is one of these places you’ve been meaning to try since you came to this village. It’s cute little open shopfront allows the scent to drift out into the darkening evening, leaving little to the imagination. It’s gotten breezier, so you throw a sweater on over your cute outfit and manage to fish one out for the kid too. It hangs over his hands and looks like a robe on him, but he couldn’t care less. You’ve never seen a child so excited about food, he practically dances all the way down to the corner shop, plopping into a stool.

“Back again, eh?” Says the shopkeeper, mopping up a spill on the countertop. “Did you find that money you misplaced finally?”

Naruto meets your sideways glance with a cowed smile.

“Something like that.” You say as you slide into the stool beside him. The older man raises his eyebrows at you.

“Oh? And who’s this lovely young lady?” He nudges the little boy teasingly. “A bit young for the dating scene, aren’t you?”

“She adopted me today!” Blurts the child proudly. You watch the shopkeeper’s reaction carefully. The passiveness disappears from his face and he looks at you in shock, and then back at the child, before his features melt back into an easygoing smile.

“Did she now? That good to hear.” He sends you a wink, “Would you like to pay his tab up front or in installments?”

“Oh Lord. Better just take my arm and leg now.” You stretch out your limbs dramatically as Naruto giggles.

“The usual?” Calls a younger woman, presumably the man’s daughter, from the kitchen.

Blue eyes look at you questioningly.

“Get whatever you want.” You nod at Naruto, “Tonight is a celebration.”

Blue eyes light up like fireworks. “Really?! You mean it?”

You shrug. “Sure, I mean…don’t go…”

“Five bowls of miso please! And one seaweed bowl with those little eggrolls on the side!”

“…crazy…”

To his credit, he eats almost everything he orders, which is…sort of disgusting, and very concerning to your wallet. Meanwhile you two banter between bites of noodles. He asks you about the bakery, and you ask him what he wants to be when he grows up.

“I’m gonna be the Hokage!” He says proudly, without a moment’s hesitation. You smile at him.

“Shinobi huh? Are you in the academy?”

“Yep! And I just l learned the substitution, but I’m not very good at it yet. My shuriken throwing is getting better though!”

“He ought to do more practicing, and less running around like a hooligan if he wanted to improve.”

The voice is neither yours, nor the shopkeepers, and you turn to find a man standing behind your stool. He’s clearly shinobi, tanned and with a weathered but good-natured face sporting a scar across his nose and cheekbones. Naruto slurps down another bite of ramen loudly, before greeting him.

“Hey Iruka-sensei!”

“I came to buy you a bowl, you little savage, but I see you’ve already suckered someone else into it.”

“Oh, you’ve got it all wrong,” You say slyly, “I’m fattening him up to eat myself, Hansel and Gretel style. Hooligans make delicious soups for us witches.”

“Ah, well in that case you’ll have to tie him down to keep him from running it all off.” He sticks out a weathered hand for you to shake. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. Umino Iruka.”

You give him your name, and shake his hand. Internally wishing you hadn’t thrown such a frumpy sweater on over your cute clothes as he sat down beside you.

“She adopted me, Iruka-sensei!”

“She…she what?” If handsome mister Iruka could look more surprised, you couldn’t picture it. He almost seemed like he would fall backwards out of his chair. “You…you…” he seemed to be literally speechless. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Naruto’s face fall, a darkening of the eyes showing that this was more the reaction he’d expected.

“Yeah,” you said shortly, “I did. Want to make something of it?”

He blanched. “No, it’s not that…just…”

“Just what? Don’t think I’m cut out for the job?”

“No, I…” He looks between you, and the boy, “I just…I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

You scoot your stool back and rise, finding Naruto’s small hand. “Come on kiddo, let’s beat it.”

“Wait, please, I think you’ve got it wrong…”

“How much do I owe you?” You ask the server, completely ignoring the sputtering shinobi. Naruto is looking between you both, completely confused. The old man smiles accommodatingly at you.

“It’s on the house this time,” He says, “I expect you’ll be a pretty regular customer if you really mean to adopt Naruto-san here.”

“I do.” You say firmly, and then, “Thank you. I won’t forget it.”

You take the boy’s hand and leave, half expecting Iruka to follow you out, but he seems to get the memo and doesn’t. It’s twilight now, and there are kids playing in the street in front of the bakery, hop-scotching lines made from sticks.

“Heya baker lady!” Greets one as you come closer. You recognize him, the chubby little Akamichi boy whose parents frequent your shop.

“Hey. Hope you guys plan to clean this up,” you nod at their mess with a smile, “it might be bad for business if everyone has to hopscotch through to my door.”

“We will!” He giggles brightly, and then his smile fades, catching sight of Naruto still holding on to your hands. The other kids are staring too, you realize now.

“Hey,” you prompt Naruto, swinging your interlocked hands to get his attention, “wanna play a few rounds with them while I get the bath started?”

Naruto looks at you, and you see hesitation in his eyes, but he nods, reluctantly releasing your hand. He only takes a step forward when another little boy from the back of the group pipes up, pointing.

“Uh, wait. He can’t play.”

“Yeah,” says a little blonde girl, “if he plays I’ll have to go home. My mom said.”

“And why’s that?” You ask stolidly, cheerful visage gone. A bunch of nervous downward glances and murmuring greets your question.

“He just can’t. My dad says not to go near him.” Says the first boy. Another little boy, wild brown hair and facial markings nods in agreement.

The roly poly boy with the cheek swirls looks conflicted, but he’s clearly uncomfortable too.

“Hey, hey,” Naruto tugs on the hem of your shirt. “It’s fine. I don’t really want to anyway.” His eyes are sort of pleading, saying,  _ don’t make it worse _ , or maybe he just doesn’t want to hear any more of this. You swallow down your anger and motion towards the grid.

“Clean it up then.” You say shortly, and in one swift movement grab Naruto and bang through the door of your shop, slamming it behind you.

He’s trembling a little when you put him down, and you take a deep breath, forcing a smile onto your features.

“Well! It’s almost bedtime so let’s get you cleaned up, huh?”

“Ok.” He replies, but the cheerful Naruto is temporarily gone. As you go upstairs to start the bath he goes back to the window. In the growing darkness most of the kids are diligently picking up the sticks and rocks and heading home. Except the little Akamichi boy, who’s still standing, staring at the door where they’d made their getaway a moment ago. For just a minute, he locks eyes with Naruto, before the fox-faced boy ducks underneath the blinds.

This time, there was more guilt then fear in his eyes.


	3. Part The Third: Adjustments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We set out to solve some of the practical things, but at some point it was bound to become clear that things aren't all sunshine and roses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway through this chapter is where I picked this story back up more recently. That...doesn't necessarily indicate an uptick in quality, but it might be noticeable. Also my chapters get longer from here. Any reviews greatly appreciated. I didn't want to make this a super angsty story, it's mostly fluff- but some of Naruto's abandonment issues were bound to come up eventually.

You breathe through your anger as the faucet in your bath runs, tempering the water until it seems like the right balance for a child and pouring shampoo into the stream to create bubbles.

_ They were just children _ you kept telling yourself in an effort to calm down. But the blind prejudice that they all shared was learned behavior, passed down from fully grown  _ adults  _ who had made the irrational decision to project their hatred and fear onto the child currently downstairs.

“Naruto!” You yelled into the stairwell, with far more force than you intended thanks to your internal monologue, so you were extra sweet when you added, “bath time!”

A second later the sound of his little feet trudging up the stairs is heard, and then he arrives, eyes widening at the bubbly wonderland you’ve created.

“Wow! Real bath bubbles! Neat!” And he’s suddenly enthusiastically peeling off his clothes, either oblivious or uncaring of the fact that you’re still there. Well, you figure, the “stranger danger” talk is definitely a priority, just maybe not today, since you’re still technically strangers. 

You keep turned around until the sounds of his giggling assure you he’s in the tub, and then you begin the arduous process of washing his hair.

“Have you ever actually been shown the proper way to do this?” You ask, incredulous at the mass of tangles that makes up his blonde locks.

“No,” he replies nonchalantly, “watch this!” and slowly raises up handful of bubbles as if it were a massive boulder, complete with sound effects.

“Hnn.” You keep scrubbing, trying not to wonder what kind of life he’s led up to now. With a thumb you go to scrub off his whisker marks, and as he giggles ticklishly and squirms away you realize that, as you suspected, they aren’t drawn on but in fact a feature of his face.

When you’re sufficiently sure that he’s finished,  you leave him to towel off with the fluffiest towel you own. None of the shirts you pilfered from his apartment seem clean enough for him now, so you grab an oversized sleepshirt of yours to lend him. When he arrives at the sunroom door where you’re setting up the cot, hair limp around his face and shirt hanging off him like a nightgown, you’re taken aback by how adorable he looks.

“Well, who knew there was a kid under all that dirt?” You tease, and he grins and makes a running leap into the bundle of blankets and pillows you’ve made.

“Comfy?” You ask, and he nods, snuggling into the mess. Unsurprisingly after running around all day, you see his eyelids droop the minute his head hits the pillow. You move some of the wet hair off his face and tuck him in using the large coverlet you (thankfully) still had in storage.

“Tomorrow, we’ll get you some new clothes, OK?”

“Mnnm.”

You go to get up, thinking about how nice your own bath will feel, but he stops you with a little hand tugging on your shirt hem.

“Hey, lady, uh…”

You ignore the nickname, ruffling his clean hair. “Yeah?”

He turns his head to the side, and you watch as his face nearly goes pink with embarrassment. “Thank you.” 

__

There’s a soft rainshower starting up as you slip under the covers of your bed, still unmade after this morning. You didn’t realize how exhausted you were until your head hit the pillow, and almost instantly the dead weight of a deep sleep settled over you. It was strange; since leaving your family home and moving to Konoha, the demon of insomnia had relentlessly made it difficult to get to sleep at a decent time. The empty bakery below and the quiet rooms, despite being homey and familiar in the daylight, had always seemed too empty. Now, it felt right, as though the last piece of a puzzle had been fitted into place and everything was, at last, complete. As if all those nights you’d lain awake, staring with bloodshot eyes at the ceiling, it had been because somewhere, a scared lonely little boy had been staring into the empty darkness of his own room. 

Just as quickly as the peace had settled over you, it was suddenly broken. Your eyes shot open again, with a sudden activation of a sixth sense that  _ something  _ was off. As you entered the sunroom you could hear it; the soft summer rain had graduated into a full summer storm, but below the thunder you could detect the soft sounds of whimpering. He was tossing in his sleep; curled into a little ball, already the blankets and pillows had slipped from his grasp. His whiskered face was twisted into an expression of anguish and you could see, reflected against the flash of lightning outside the window, the wetness of tears on his cheeks. You had often wondered whether parental instincts were a load of bull or not; but in that moment you didn't have to think twice about what to do. And so you gathered the blanket, and the child with it, into waiting arms. He stiffened; waking, groggily, and then with only a moment's hesitation threw his thin arms around your neck, burying his tear-stained face in the crook of your shoulder. You carried him like that to your own bed, tucking him in front of you, your chin resting on his mop of hair, his small arms refusing to uncling themselves from your neck. You waited in the soft space between dreaming and waking for his nightmare to end, and his breathing to become even and heavy once more. 

In that darkness with the summer storm raging outside and his tears wet on your shoulder, it was no joke anymore. All the absurdity melts away, and your heart hurt for him, kindled with a newfound fire, sudden purpose. There in that quiet space between waking a dreaming you made a solemn promise,  _ I'm going to mother him _ you say to the empty world beyond the window,  _ and nothing in heaven or earth is going to hurt him again _ . 

  
  


__ ********************

The next morning brought a beautiful new day ahead of the rain, and several brand new crises. You woke when you felt Naruto trying to quietly squirm out of your arms, and pretended to be asleep as you watched him rub his eyes, groggily, and, after turning hesitantly to look at you, pad back to his cot. For a long moment you considered why, (was he embarrassed? had you scared him?) But eventually decided just to let it lie. Either you’d hurt his seven-year-old pride by seeing him at his most vulnerable, or he was simply unused to such closeness, but either way, he needed time. 

You were used to waking early; the bakery required no less; but you waited until you were sure he was asleep again before rousing and going through the motions of making the bed, bathing, and dressing. You were so deep in your routine for a lazy sunday morning, you nearly forgot about your new charge; until you heard his small feet plodding down the stairs behind you as you kneaded bread into a thick braid, brushing it with butter. 

“Good morning,” You said brightly, and turned to find him, still in his pajama shirt but with his goggles thrust onto his head, watching you warily from the stairs. 

“Morning.” 

“Did you make your bed?”

He shrugged. “I can make it later.”

“You  _ can _ , but you’ll make it now.” You responded chipperly, “and by the time you’re done with that and brushing your hair and getting dressed, prep should be over, and we’ll have breakfast.” 

“S’ that what’s for breakfast?” He asked, addressing the cheese braid on your counter. 

“This is how we’ll make the money to buy our breakfast.” You laughed, “But if you want, you can have a cupcake from yesterday’s display to tide you over. It might be a little stale though.”

Inwardly, you make a mental note that sweets in the morning will  _ not  _ become the norm, and come out of your reverie just in time to catch his hand as it reaches shoulder-deep into the glass cabinet. 

“ _ After  _ you’ve made your bed and washed up.” 

The second time he bounces downstairs, he’s far more awake, and doesn’t waste anytime wiggling past you to pilfer a cupcake, stuffing it into his mouth before you have time to tell him you have his breakfast ready. It’s nearly eight AM now, and the shop is open, though it’s always slow this time of morning after the initial rush of shinobi coming to grab a quick bite on their way to train. Sunlight streams hazily in through the window as you deposit Naruto on a stool at the counter where you can keep an eye on him as he scarfs down the buttered scones you’ve made. 

“We’re closing early today, at twelve, I’ve already posted it,” You say, much more to yourself than to the seven-year-old who is far too involved in licking his fingers to hear you, “we’ll have lunch, and then head out to get some clothes, do the laundry and get back in time to prep for tomorrow morning.” 

“Can I have more?” 

You turn deadpan to your audience, who’s whiskered visage is covered with butter and crumbs and who beams endearingly at you. 

“Good lord, you’ll eat me out of house and home.” You sigh, but go to fetch another scone.“What do you normally have for breakfast?”

“Cup ramen.” 

You pull a face. “Have you ever eaten a vegetable, perchance?” 

“Ew! Who wants those?” 

“Well, I have bad news for you kiddo, if you think you’re…”

“y/n?” 

You whirl, having somehow missed the ringing of the shop bell between the beeping of the oven and your conversation. Yoshino stands in the doorway, holding the hand of her young son. Her eyes are wide and Naruto, twisted as he is halfway around from talking to you, looks just as displeased to see her. 

“Uh, Yoshino! Come in, please.” You try to put on a pleasant smile, unconsciously squeezing your palm as you set Naruto’s plate down with one hand. 

Your friend seems to have regained her composure some, “Don’t tell me Hokage-sama would send him  _ here _ to help you as a punishment?”

“Uh, uh, no...actually, it’s, he…” You look at Naruto, who is now engaging himself in picking apart his warm food, and he looks back, eyes unreadable but clearly unhappy. You steele yourself,  _ like a bandaid  _ you think. “Actually, I’ve adopted him.” 

Whatever reaction you were hoping for, it wasn’t Yoshino’s reverberating “ _ WHAT?!”  _ that seems to shake the shop and makes her son, and Naruto, flinch. “y/n are you  _ crazy? _ ”

“Yoshino  _ please.” _ You say firmly. “If you want to talk about it come in here to the back.” 

“Wha…” She pauses, uncertainty evident in her eyes. Finally, she releases her son’s hand and says, “Alright, stay here for just a moment Shikamaru. I’ll be right back.” You are prepared to get really mad, but she doesn’t say any words of warning to Naruto, only glances warily in his direction before following you into the back. 

Left alone out front, Naruto swings his legs over the edge of the counter, regarding the boy that’s left in the middle of the shop and being sized up by him at the same time. 

They’ve seen each other before, of course, but never this close, and never in such awkward circumstances. Finally, the dark haired boy yawns, and sticks his hands deep in his pockets. 

“So do you like, work here now or something?” He asks. 

To say he’s surprised to be spoken to by the other child is an understatement, and Naruto has to resist the urge to turn and make sure he’s the one being addressed. “Dunno.” he says after a while, legs still swinging, “I’ve only been here a day.” 

“My mom wants me to work here.” Says the other boy, Shikamaru, “But it sounds like a drag. I hope you start instead.” 

“I bet it’s not hard.” 

“Bet it is.” 

“All you’d do is give people cakes and stuff and they give you money. What’s hard about that?”

“Dummy, you gotta  _ make  _ the cakes too.” 

Naruto blinked. He  _ had  _ been insulted, but there was no weight behind it this time. It didn’t seem like the other boy cared much to be mean to him. 

“I could probably learn to do that part, and if your mom makes you work you can do the selling part.” 

“And what about your mom? What’ll she do?”

Now the whiskered boy wrinkled his nose in total confusion. “My what?”

“Your mom. If you bake and I sell she won’t have anything to do.”

“I don’t have a mom.” 

Shikamaru rolls his eyes. “Oh man, are you dense. Didn’t that lady just say she adopted you? That makes her your mom, doesn’t it?” 

“I…” Naruto suddenly felt very vulnerable, up there on the countertop. “My...mom..” He said, very quietly, to himself, trying it out for size, liking the way it sounded, “Yeah, I guess it does!” 

The grin that split his face was 70-watt, and before it even Shikamaru had to allow a small smile on his placid features. 

“Hey!” Said Naruto suddenly, “If you’re gonna work here, I can teach you how to make all the stuff! I’m an expert. Wanna see?” 

The other boy let out a tired sigh, “Sounds like a pain, but, I guess I’ll watch.” 

  
  


Meanwhile, things were not progressing as smoothly with Yoshino. 

“So you can see...I mean, someone  _ has  _ to take care of him...surely you can see that?” 

“But why on  _ earth _ would it have to be you y/n?!” Yoshino had adopted the tone of voice of an exasperated mother explaining why her daughter couldn’t adopt a fifth stray cat, “People in this village are starting to like you, to accept you as one of their own. Can’t you understand that this could jeopardize that?! Not to mention it’s  _ dangerous.”  _

“You keep saying that, but Yoshino I’m telling you, no matter what was put inside him as a baby he’s  _ just _ a little boy. I’m in no danger from him and neither is anyone else.” 

“There is no way of knowing that y/n. You weren’t here when the fox attacked this village, you didn’t see what it did. He may  _ look _ like a little boy, but if he lets his emotions get out of control, it could mean death…”

“Don’t you think the best way for him to learn to  _ control _ his emotions would be by having someone caring for him?!” 

Yoshino opens her mouth to argue, but sighs instead. You know you’ve reached a stalemate, but not a victory, and so you say, 

“Look, I really value your friendship. I know you don’t understand or approve, but trust me when I say I wouldn’t be doing this unless I really felt like I needed to. I hope you won’t stop coming in here over this, but I’m sorry, even if you do it won’t dissuade me.” 

Your friend shakes her head. “No, I don’t understand. But it’s your choice to make y/n. And I...I won’t stop coming in. At least for now, until we see how things go. You may change your mind.” 

You draw your lips into a thin line, “I don’t think so, but thank you.” 

There isn’t anything else to say, so you move aside to let her pass back out into the hazy mid-morning sun of the shop, following afterwards. 

The scene that greets the both of you is messy and unexpected. Naruto has pulled one of your pans of dough waiting to go in the oven, and a healthy amount of flour. Now, coated in it, he is attempting to show Shikamaru how to fold dough, molding it the same way one would a piece of clay pottery. Meanwhile Shikamaru, less messy but not without his floury patches, is attempting to explain the flaws in this plan. 

“I’m telling you, you need to  _ roll  _ it first.” 

“Nah, you roll it after!”

“How does that make any sense?” 

“Shikamaru!” Yoshino’s shout brought both boys around with a jump, “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

The Nara boy shrugged, features quickly melting back into apathy as he crossed his arms behind his head. “You wanted me to help right? Naruto was showing me how.”

“We’re making cheese raids!” Beamed Naruto. 

“Cheese  _ braids _ .” You offered, unhelpfully, and then, “I’m really sorry for the mess Yoshino, let me get a rag for him…”

“Oh don’t worry about it, we’re going to the park anyway.” The older woman waved away your concern, “I’m just...surprised. He doesn’t usually get himself involved in activities so easily.” She seemed to size up Naruto, again, for a quick moment. You weren’t sure what conclusion she came to, but you did see the way her son’s half-lidded eyes watched her, as if waiting on a queue to make some assessment of his own. 

Naruto, for his part, seemed solely concerned with Shikamaru. 

“Next time if you come, I’ll show you how to make the cinnamon buns!” He promised. 

“Ok, those are Choji’s favorites.” Responded the other boy apathetically. “Maybe he can come too.” 

Yoshino pursed her lips, but didn’t interject. “Come on Shikamaru, we’re late.” She regarded you with a steady eye, “Bye y/n, and good luck. I mean that.” 

Naruto is standing on the counter at this point, and has a look in his blue eye that says he might try to attempt some jump to impress his new friend, so you loop an arm around his waist and hoist him aloft, calling after her; 

“Bye! And Yoshino...if you do decide to have Shikamaru help for the Summer, I’d be happy to have him.” You know it’s a shot in the dark. But she doesn’t say ‘no’ at once. She looks at her son, to the flour-covered boy held in your arms, and back.

“I’ll..talk to his father.” She says, “Bye y/n...Naruto.” 

They leave, both boys waving at each other. Once she’s gone, you assess the outside of the shop and make sure there are no more customers heading your way, before quickly flipping the sign to “closed” and shutting the door. 

“Am I in trouble?” Asks Naruto as soon as you’re both alone. 

“Why would you be?” 

“She seemed mad...that other lady, your friend.” 

“Don’t worry about her.” You said, “If you _ were _ in trouble for anything it would be for making this huge mess on the counter.” 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” 

“Just don’t touch my baking stuff without permission, alright? Some of it’s sharp or hot and dangerous.” 

“I’m not a baby.” He says, and sticks his lower lip out in possibly the most contradictory way possible. You raise an eyebrow, giving what you hope is a “menacing parent” stare, and it must work, because he backs off. “But alright, I won’t touch it without asking.” 

“Good.” You say, teasingly shaking the flour from his hair with one hand, sending him into a fit of giggles. “Now go upstairs and put on the last of your clean shirts, we’re going shopping.” 

There are a few curious onlookers as you exit the shop, nearing noon now, and lock it behind you. The sky had grown cloudy, a muggy, rainy Monday ahead, which boded well that your bakery wouldn’t be  _ too  _ missed if you slacked off for another day. You assure an old woman, a regular, who’s name you’ve yet to learn that you’ll be back to your regular business hours tomorrow. Her eyes pass you and stray to Naruto, who’s small hand is in yours, before nodding wordlessly and shuffling off. 

Your first order of business is to buy him new shoes, as the ones he has are worn and caked in dirt. The academy sandals were pricey, but you figured they were the best option for the copious running around he’d be doing. Of course, getting him to sit still in the shop so you can try and fit them is a different matter. 

“Are they comfortable, or not?”

“Sure they are!”

“Don’t just say that, walk in them.”

He makes a face at you, but stands and does a few shuffling steps in them. 

“They’re great! How much?” 

You tell him the price absently, not sure why he should care beyond what little pride expensive shoes may have in the academy, and watch his face fall. 

“I don’t have that much.” He says, daunted. 

“Well naturally dingus, I'm buying.” 

He furrows his brow and cocks his head to the side like a curious dog, blonde locks falling around his face. “How come? Did the old man give you money?” 

“No. But now that you mention it, sending him a bill isn’t a terrible idea.” You laugh. Naruto, however, still looks perplexed. 

“But then..you’re gonna spend your own money?” 

“Yeah kiddo. I’m responsible for you now. That’s how things work when you’re a family.” 

He seems to be digesting this, even as you wrestle the shoes off of him long enough to pay for them, only for him to immediately want to stop outside and put them on again. Still, if the idea was a foreign one to him, it doesn’t take him too long to adjust; you buy him three new T-shirts (in bigger sizes, with a little room to grow just in case), a new shuriken pouch, some beginner-level books (he insists he doesn’t need ‘baby books’ but a cursory test of his reading skills on a shop sign tells you he’s more than a little behind the grade) and, apparently, his first toy. It’s just a cheap plastic action figure, the kind that has a lever to activate a jerky arm movement. You see him eyeing it, watch him play with it as you hunt down child-sized blanket sets, and expect him to ask for it at any minute, only to be surprised when he reluctantly puts it back. 

“Come to think of it,” You say, “You didn’t grab any toys when we left your place.” 

“I don’t have any.” He says simply. Which, of course, means you have to buy the ugly plastic thing. But a little frivolous spending is worth it, considering the way he holds it like a holy golden chalice, cradling it under one arm and using every opportunity to “fire” it, complete with his own sound effects, at random passer-bys. 

Being out and about with him this way gives you the opportunity to get to know him some, which is a double edged sword. Good on one hand but terrifying on the other because of the depth of what you still don’t know. You learn he likes bright colors; yellows, reds and oranges. You learn he likes candy, but not sour candy. You learn he’s invented a game called “three hop” where you try to get across the street in, go figure, three hops. But every revelation mostly just reveals that there’s so much more about this kid and his seven-year’s worth of life than it seems you’ll ever be able to know. 

And also, by being with him like this, you get to know the village, in a new and downright frightening way. Everywhere you go seems to create a minor spectacle. It’s like stepping inside the mind of a paranoid person for the day; all eyes seemed to be on the two of you, all casual background talk seemed to cease whenever you’d enter a shop, as though the air had been sucked out of the room. You swore you heard snippets of whispered conversations taking place behind your backs. The worst part was that Naruto didn’t even seem to notice, as though this were nothing particularly out of the ordinary for him. It was strange, and new for you, though. Although not overly friendly to outsiders, the Leaf had always seemed a fairly welcoming place. War-torn and hierarchical, sure, but you had never pegged your neighbors and customers, many of whom you’d come to consider your friends, as being so contrite and suspicious. But the wakeup call didn’t really hit home until your last stop, Saito’s. 

Saito’s was a little corner store you’d come to frequent, thanks to the wide selection of clothes, imported books and games, and the kind little old man who owned it. Saito had greeted you on one of your first days in the village, identifying you at once as an outsider and welcoming you kindly, offering sage advice about the village and how to run a business in it. You considered him, if not a close friend, then a fond acquaintance. 

Which is why you couldn’t have been more taken aback when he emerged from behind the counter, a broom handle clutched in his gnarled hands and his features dark and angry, as soon as you entered. At first you thought it was you that was the target of his attack, but you quickly realized otherwise as Naruto instinctively ducked behind you, small hands fisted into your shirt as he attempted to shelter.

“You step out from behind that young lady right now.” Said Saito, bringing the broom around with an effective  _ whoosh _ , “I can see you. I warned you what would happen if I caught you sneaking in here again.” 

“I’m  _ not _ sneaking in!” Shouted Naruto obstinately, but he didn’t remove himself from behind you, only making a small sound of fear when the old man took another step forward. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” You started, swinging your hands up and smiling placatingly, “This is all a big misunderstanding! Naruto is here with me.” 

“What do you mean?” Asked Saito, his eyes focusing on you as if seeing you there for the first time. At this point the whole store was looking at the three of you, you felt the weight of their stares like a physical pressure on the chest, and swallowed hard. 

“I-I mean, I adopted him yesterday. We were just looking for a-”

“Leave.” 

It was so quick and so firm, barked in such an authoritative way you jumped inwardly. 

“Wha? I...you’re not being fair, I have money and I…” 

“I said leave. Take that  _ thing _ with you. And don’t come in here again if you plan to let it hang around you.” 

His words seemed to reverberate around your head. You wanted to open your mouth and let fly whatever may be waiting in the chamber, but your throat felt sticky and hot. The unexpected vehemence in his eyes had winded you. Unable to do anything but retreat, you did so, taking Naruto’s hand firmly in your own and marching back out onto the street, ignoring the gawking stares of the other customers.

The rain had started to come down now, a steady torrent of it, but you didn’t stop walking until you were a whole street away. So hot was your embarrassment and anger it felt like the drops that landed on you would turn to steam. Finally when you were what felt like a safe distance,, you pulled Naruto under an awning. You had to take a couple of deep breaths before you could even put on the mask of a happy face. 

“Well!” You said, much louder than you had meant, and saw with dismay his flinch, lost in thought as he seemed to be. “What a bunch of crazies they are in that place! Why don’t we go back to Uieno’s and get us some umbrellas?”

He didn’t answer. _ OK _ , you thought, _ he needs a minute. Maybe we both do _ . For a long moment the pattering of the rain on the canvas awning and the gurgling stream along the street gutter in front of you was the only sound.

“I think maybe I should just go home.” He said at last. His voice was very quiet, and held a small, carefully contained tremor. 

You blinked down at him. “What, alone? We’re a mile away.”

“No I mean…” He motioned vaguely forward, and you followed the gesture, noticing for the first time that you were standing across the road from the building where his shabby apartment was. 

“No, I don’t know. What on earth do you mean?” 

“I mean, maybe this isn’t a good idea. So maybe I’ll just go back home now, OK?” He wouldn’t meet your eye, “Thanks for all the stuff. I can ask the old man to pay you back if you want.” 

After the gut-punch in Saito’s this little display felt like being kicked while you were down. Collecting yourself, you knelt down to his level. He didn’t seem to like this though, backing up nervously as though you might attack. The toy was clutched close to his chest like a lifeline.

“Is this about what happened in Saito’s?” You asked, because it was all you could think to ask. 

He shook his head vehemently. “The old man- the hokage said we would try it, right? And then see how we feel. Well I feel like I should..I, uh, I mean, I think I wanna go back.” 

A hundred thoughts ran through your head, pinging off of one another like pinballs. Had you done something wrong? Was it the way you failed to defend him in the shop? Had something in your attitude been off? Did he really just not enjoy having a caretaker? Were you making his plight worse somehow? The rational part of your brain was telling you that there was no way he meant what he said, while the more-panic stricken part was railing that it had been some personal, critical failure as a parent that brought about this swift heel turn. 

“Can you tell me why?” You managed after a minute, carefully checking the thick feeling in your throat. This was no time to cry, because this wasn’t about you, really. 

Naruto shook his head, again. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” He repeated, voice so quiet it was hardly audible. 

“Then can you tell me…” You didn’t have time to finish. He ran. 

For the second time in two days, you found yourself chasing down a blonde-haired blob on the streets of Konoha. This time it was a much messier scene. You with your shopping bags on both arms, he clutching his toy, and both of you soaked to the skin. It was a short-lived chase- he had dashed out blindly into the busy street, tried to cut a corner and clocked himself on a curb, landing hard in a mud puddle on the other side. You scooped him up, hardly aware of the grime, checking him for injuries. Just like the last time, he struggled, kicking and thrashing to get away from you. 

“Let go of me!  _ Let go! _ I said I don’t wanna live with you anymore so just leave me alone!” You dropped the shopping bags, shaking them off of your arm as you held him firmly with one hand, and he kept thrashing, “Let  _ go!  _ I don’t want to see you anymore! I hate you!” 

“Too bad!” You shouted finally. The short run in the rain had snapped your priorities back into place. The mad dash had made the world make sense again, and even if you weren’t sure if your theory was correct, you knew you had to find out. “I told you we were a family now, like it or not. This isn’t a casual in and out situation. If you really hate me or hate living with me, then that’s fine, but you’ll have to tell me to my face or give me some better reason before I let you go that easily.”

He stopped thrashing, scowling at you. You faced each other down; you met his fierce gaze with one of your own. It was hard to tell at first, courtesy of the rainstorm, but when his eyes brimmed over with tears, you weren’t exactly surprised. You weren’t sure who moved first, you or him, but in a minute his mud-covered arms were around your neck, and he sobbed hard into your soaked top. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He blubbered when you could finally make out words, “I don’t hate you, I promise I don’t!” 

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Then why did you say all that?”

He released you, but was no better off for it, still sniffling and trying desperately to hide it, smearing mud on his face every time he went to wipe away his tears. “The old shop man..he was your friend, wasn’t he? I’ve seen you in there talking and laughing with him before...and your other friend, that lady...and…”

The rain was still pouring, loud in your ears. People were crossing the street to avoid the two of you, knelt in the mud with your shopping bags around you. “What about them, Naruto?”

“They hate me...everyone does...if you, if...if you keep me people will start to treat you bad too. And I don’t want that because you're a nice person.” 

You found your throat a bit thick and hard to talk with. “And are you not a nice person?” 

This question seemed to perplex him. “I can be good, you know.” He responded, still swabbing at his face with his muddy hands. “People don’t think I can be, but I can.” 

“I think you’re very good.” You said, “Good people don’t deserve to be treated badly, do they?”

He paused, and said, “No.” 

“I don’t deserve to be treated bad, and neither do you. We’re both good people, and if people are going to treat either of us badly, they’re not good people, and I don't want to be friends with them. It’s as simple as that.” 

Well, there was nothing simple about it, as you were learning. But you hoped, at least, that to the mind of a seven-year-old this would make some sense. It seemed for the moment to calm him somewhat. 

“Listen,” You said, reaching around to gather your discarded shopping, “I need you to promise me you’ll stick with this. I don’t care about other people. As long as we’ve got each other, we’ll be fine. But you can’t bolt on me when the going gets tough, ok?” 

He nodded, tears still streaking his mud covered face, and then you watched his eyes drift past you. You turned, half expecting to see Saito running at you both with a broom in some surprise attack, but what greeted you instead was Umino Iruka. 

“There you are!” He huffed, coming up with an umbrella, immediately handing it to Naruto and kneeling to help with your bags. “That was a pretty quick getaway you made there.” 

You felt yourself flush with embarrassment. “You followed us from the…”

“From the shop, yes.” 

You pursed your lips at him. The last thing you wanted at the moment was another play-by-play of that little scene. “Well, thanks for your concern. But we’re fine, aren’t we Naruto?”

“I wasn’t crying!” Blurted the seven year old. So much for playing that one cool. 

“I didn’t come about that, though I was sorry to see it happen.” Said Iruka, “I was hoping I would run into you, so I could apologize for last night.”

“Oh.” For the second time, you felt your ears grow hot with embarrassment, “Don’t worry about that. I overreacted.” 

“Well, considering what I saw back there, I don’t blame you for assuming the worst.” 

You stand, holding a still-dripping-with-mud Naruto with one arm, and he hands you your bags. “Water under the bridge.” You smile at him, “Thanks for your help. Now I’d better get home before this mudball gets a cold.” 

“Oh- that wasn’t all. I’d feel much better if you’d allow me to treat the two of you to dinner. I had planned to take Naruto out yesterday after all.” 

“Really?!” Pipes up the aforementioned mudball, the drama of a few moments ago instantly forgotten. “Can we get ramen?!”

“I was thinking barbeque.” Said Iruka, “a little variation won’t hurt you. Of course it’s up to miss y/n here…”

“Can we go? Please?  _ Please _ ?” Naruto was squirming excitedly now which, thanks to the rain, your already full arms and the mud made for an unpleasant juggling act. His eagerness, coupled with the fact that Saito’s had been where you planned to pick up dinner ingredients, made the choice an easy one. 

“Alright, alright! But we’ll have to go home and clean up first.” You turned to Iruka, “Thank you. I really do appreciate it.” 

The shinobi flashed you a warm smile. “Not at all. I’ll meet you in front of the bakery in about an hour, ok?”

“Barbeque!! Woohoo!!!” Cheered Naruto, whooping and punching the air around your head. 

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. “OK, sounds good.” 

***********************

The rain had died down some when you made it back home, unlocking the bakery doors and sending Naruto upstairs at once to towel off (there wasn’t time to make him take a whole bath, although lord knew he needed one). He didn’t argue, enthused as he was about dinner, but paused on the landing, turning back around to look at you. 

“I’m not a crybaby you know.” He said tentatively. 

“I never thought you were.” 

“Well I’m not. I almost never cry. And I don’t hate it here, either.” 

“Oh, I had forgotten all about that.” You said, casually. You hadn’t, and in fact it had been the only thing on your mind on the way home. He had shown far too developed an emotional intelligence and far too deep a guilt complex than a child of seven should have. “I’m sure sometimes I’ll say things I don’t mean too. I hope when I do you’ll forget them. Deal?”

“Deal!” He grinned, and then added cheekily, “You look like a drowned rat.” 

“And you look like a swamp monster.” 

“Betcha I can get dried off first!” 

“You can try, but if you get mud any of your new things you’ll regret it.” 

He grinned wickedly, before turning and clobbering up the stairs. Soon after the sounds of things being thrown around the dayroom in his haste followed. 

Alone down in the bakery, you released a deep sigh it seemed you’d been holding in since this morning. There was a lot on your mind, but one revelation had crystalized and centered itself firmly in your frontal lobe. 

This was going to be a lot more complicated than you had thought. 


	4. Part the Fourth: Idle Hands and Prying Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader experiences her first prank, and begins to realize that the jinchuriki is bound to have more than one interested party around, for better or for worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of cameos in this chapter including me bending the rules a LOT to bring in an old friend long before he was actually involved. Let me know any thoughts on this; I just very much like playing with the concept.

For all the qualities that you were beginning to find about this kid, most endearing and many concerning, one that never ceased to amaze you was his ability to pendulate between extremes. If the child crying in the rain and attempting to sacrifice his chance at a home for your happiness was at his lowest, the kid now hop-scotching along through mud puddles and periodically stopping to throw some weak surprise attack at his sensei had to be the polar-opposite, a manic ball of joyful energy. 

“Are you  _ sure _ we can’t go to Ichiriku’s?” He asks for what had to be the eightieth time. 

Iruka doesn’t respond, busy as he is evading the weak side-punch Naruto was throwing at him. 

“You’re way too open with your right,” says his teacher, “and that landing was pathetic.” 

Naruto snickers, as though he’s been complimented, throws his arms behind his head and walks in sync for a moment before quickly running ahead at the first sight of a new shop. 

“You have my sympathies.” Iruka says once he’s out of earshot. 

“He’s usually not this rowdy.” You defend, and then, “Or, well, it’s hardly been two days I guess. I don’t  _ think  _ he’s usually this rowdy.”

Iruka only gives you a quirked eyebrow in response. 

****

He squirms into your lap in the booth, despite the fact that there’s plenty of room on either side between you or Iruka. You don’t comment on it (even though it makes it very hard to reach the food) because this is the first time he’s initiated close contact in a casual setting. It’s a little thing, but it makes your heart swell. It also makes your legs go numb, but that’s a different matter. 

“Iruka-sensei! I’m a baker now, didja know that?” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, today I made cheese raids!”

“ _ Braids. _ Cheese braids.” You correct him, deciding not to bother mentioning he didn’t even remotely make them. 

Iruka has a sly look on his face, “So you’ve decided to give up being a shinobi? That’s good to hear. I can go ahead and take you off my detention list for the next semester.” 

“Wha! No way! I’m still gonna be a ninja and you...hey wait a minute! Detention list?!” 

You sit back, chewing lazily on your food, the weight on your shoulders easing off a little bit as you listen to the two of them banter. Iruka may not have been fulfilling the role of a parent, but he was certainly more than a teacher to the boy, and you were glad that there was someone else who knew him well and didn’t detest him. Still, if you had been hoping to get to know the Chunin, that plan was clearly out the window. Naruto, thriving on the attention of not one but _ two _ whole adults, was leaving no room for much conversation between you two. Mostly, he fluctuates between stuffing his mouth with food, bragging on the things he’d been bought today, his new home and by extension, you, and peppering Iruka with questions about the upcoming semester.

“Will we learn any water jutsu?” He begs around a mouthful, “Please please! If you tell me now i’ll practice really hard and be the best one in class.”

“You’re way ahead of yourself.” His teacher responds, “there’s only two weeks left before classes start. And even if I were to give you a jutsu to learn, with your level of chakra control you couldn’t master it yet.”

“Only two weeks?!” You yelp without meaning to, and immediately try to hide your shocked face behind a napkin. Naruto is unaffected,

“Hmph! Two weeks is a long enough time.” 

“You should spend that time trying to make some new friends.” Says Iruka sagely, and, thankfully ignoring your outburst “Being class clown clearly isn’t working for you in that regard.” 

It seems a little harsh, and you see Naruto flush with color, a sheepish grin on his face as he snuggles down into the booth. 

“Naruto was well on his way to making a friend today, weren’t you?” You prompt, coming to his defense. Big blue eyes look up at you. 

“Oh, yeah! Pineapple hair kid is my friend now.”

“Shikamaru?” Asks Iruka curiously. 

“Yes,” You say, guilty you hadn’t recalled his name, “His mother is a good friend of mine.”

_ Or at least, I hope she still is. _

Iruka turns to the boy. “That’s a good start. Don’t overdue it, OK? You don’t have to do crazy things to impress him.” 

“I won’t!” Beams Naruto. 

“And leave that poor girl Sakura alone this semester.” 

“What?!”

Watching the two of them banter, you were now free to consider just how close school was to starting back. Was that a blessing or a curse? On the one hand, it would free up your days to attend the bakery which was good and sorely needed, but on the other, it meant sending Naruto off with other kids...unsupervised…

You decide to have another plate of meat and not worry about it yet. One thing at a time was going to have to be the motto if you were to get through this. 

The whiskered child’s energy is waning, but not yet fully out as you leave the restaurant, spilling endless thanks to Iruka for paying the huge bill he’d managed to rack up. As soon as you’re out in the twilight, Naruto tugs on your arm. 

“Hey, hey! Give me a ride and I’ll give you one after!” 

“Oh, well that sounds like a fair trade.” You quip sarcastically, but your shoulder has already lowered enough that he can clamber up your arm and onto your back. 

He loops his arms tightly around you, chortling joyfully that his plan is a success. As you suspected, you’re less than a minute from the barbeque shop when you feel him go limp, and his hot breath on your neck grows even and slow. 

“I knew he seemed worn out,” Says Iruka, voice awed, “But not  _ that _ tired.” 

“It’s been a very long day,” you admit, feeling your own eyes begin to droop. 

He’s quiet for a minute, as you both walk. The village is peaceful, nearly empty, and there’s no one there to bat an eye at the three of you. You turn when the length of quiet grows awkward and see his mouth stretched in a thin line. Finally he says, 

“They aren’t bad people, you know.”

“The village?” You guess, and he nods, 

“I can’t imagine what you must think of us. Finding out about him-” he nods at the child slumbering peacefully, his breath tickling your ear, “-and you would have a right to feel that way. But there’s...it’s just- different, if you grew up here, I suppose.” 

You don’t respond, though you have a lot you’d like to say to that. His tone makes it clear this is very difficult for him to say, so you stay quiet as he goes on. 

“The old man from the shop-”

“Saito.” 

“Yes, Saito’s children, a daughter and son in law, as well as his young grandchildren were killed by the fox.” He said, voice barely above a whisper, and you both pause to make sure Naruto is still fast asleep, “There were a lot of lives lost that day.” Another pause, and then he says, 

“My parents were among them as well.” 

“I’m sorry,” You say, because what else can you say? 

He shakes his head, as if dismissing the topic. “I know better now, but for a very long time I needed someone to blame. Everyone did. We were hurting, even for the people who hadn’t lost someone, life had changed. But the hokage was dead, the fox was gone and there was only…” 

He trailed off. You listened to the crunch of your sandals in the dirt path, Naruto’s steady untroubled breathing. 

“I learned in time how wrong that was, when I met him, when I allowed myself to talk to him.” He continued finally, “And I think others will as well, given half a chance. But I'm glad you’re here. As a teacher I’m not supposed to get too involved, but as his mother maybe you can help. Help people see him as just another little boy.” 

You’re at the door of the bakery now, standing in the twilight as you fiddle with your key. Naruto begins to stir when it finally opens, sensing you stopped moving, or maybe smelling the warm cinnamon smell that always seemed to pervade the place, you didn’t know. You don’t have time to exchange any really meaningful words with Iruka as the boy slips groggily into consciousness, so you just say, 

“Thanks, for everything.” And leave it at that. 

****

You deposit Naruto into bed, and have exactly the time needed to get washed up, into your pajamas and comfortable before you hear his feet padding into your room and climbing clumsily over you into the covers. 

“Are you asleep?” He whispers loudly into your ear.

“Yes.” you whisper back, and he giggles at your little joke. 

“You won’t tell old man hokage about what I said today, will you?” he asks,

“Nope.” You say, barely able to keep your eyes open, “Mum’s the word.” 

“Good. Cause,’ I didn’t mean it.” 

“Mmm.” 

“I like it here. It’s like being in a dream.”

“Mmhm.”

“I don’t ever wanna leave. You aren’t gonna make me leave, right?”

“Huh-mm.” 

He snuggled under the covers until his back was against you, kicking you a few times with his ice cold feet. “Good.” He said, apparently satisfied. You wanted to insist that he had a perfectly good bed of his own, but it didn’t seem right after intentionally letting him sleep in yours yesterday, and anyway getting him up now would mean moving yourself, which wasn’t happening. So you drifted off like that, for the second time, and to your surprise, he was still there in the morning. 

*****

You were proud of yourself, come sunrise. Yesterday had been a mixed bag, but by seven you had already woken, dressed, prepped the kitchen, woken Naruto, made him take a bath (a feat in and of itself, despite his endless reserves of energy he was not what one might call a morning person), and opened the shop. You were feeling good, having served a fair selection of customers and even been complimented by a nice old couple, when it happened. 

You had gone deep into the pantry to restock, leaving Naruto to watch the counter, when you heard the bell ring. You came out of the back with a bag of flour in your arms, humming a little tune to greet whatever customer it might be when-

_ Woosh _ ,  _ clank!  _

-suddenly a cascade of ice-cold water, and a second after something hard hit you in the head, clattering loudly to the floor after. 

You dropped the flour bag, nearly sinking to your knees yourself, holding your head with one hand, soaked all the way through. In the second or so after your initial shock subsided, you were able to assess the situation. The thing that hit you was a little tin bucket that you kept for large dough batches. It had been filled with water from the tap and placed on top of the open door back so that when you widened it to come through, it would fall on you just as it had. You looked at yourself; soaked, streaked with flour; you looked at the floor; a mini lake, and a river powdered with white, stretching from where you stood dripping into it and out into the storefront. You looked at Naruto, cackling to himself on the other side of the counter, and your eyes flashed red. 

“Are you?! Is this…?!” You struggled to find words that properly conveyed your anger without punctuating them by throwing things, “What is the  _ matter  _ with you?!” 

“It’s just a prank!” He laughed, “I got you pretty good didn’t I?! You’re soaked!” 

“And  _ you’re _ gonna be dead when I’m through with you!” You tried shaking your arms to dispel some of the loose water, but more shook from your hair, and you were afraid to move for fear of tracking water everywhere. “Do you honestly think this is funny?! Look at me!” 

He stuck his lower lip out, instantly retaining a defensive stance. “You don’t have to be so uptight about it.” 

_ “Uptight _ !?” You were beginning to hit decibels you didn’t think you had the capability for. Someone passed by the shop window, but didn’t enter, and you realized you couldn’t stand here arguing in your flour-water lagoon all day. 

“Go get a towel.” You snapped. 

“Aw, can’t I watch the counter…”

“A towel. Naruto. Right now.” 

He huffed, but obeyed. With hands that were shaky, either from the cold or your anger, you grabbed the soggy ruined bag of flour and lugged it into the back. When you came back, Naruto was begrudgingly inching a towel around in the water with his foot, doing little more than moving it around. You snatched it from him, and he looked- upset. Upset but not surprised. You tried to reason it out as you mopped up the mess in angry silence, ignoring your own dampness. If he had known you would be angry, and that your anger would upset him, why had he done it? 

There wasn’t time, however, to talk about it. Nearly as soon as you were done wiping up as best you could while still dripping, the shop bell rang. You looked up to find no one, and looked down to find Shikamaru, with the Akamichi boy- Chojo? Close behind him. 

“Hey!” Said Naruto, coming out of the back with a fresh towel. He dropped it in his excitement, nearly jumping over you to greet his friend. “Didja come to learn about the cinnamon rolls?” 

“Nah.” Said Shikamaru, he swept his eyes over the half-cleaned scene of disaster without comment. “We’re going to the park. This is Choji. Choji, Naruto.” The red-haired boy stepped forward, a little nervously. Then Shikamaru said something which, even mad as you were, made your heart sing. “Naruto’s alright, he’s a friend of mine.” 

Apparently, this was all the coaxing he needed, “Hi.” Said Choji, 

“Hey!” Beamed Naruto. “I uh, like your cheek-things.” 

“Thanks. I like yours.” 

You tried to hide your small smile as you focused on cleaning the drops of water from the counter, pretending not to pay attention to the exchange. 

“Well,” Said Shikamaru, “Do you wanna ask your mom if you can come to the park with us or what?” 

“I...oh!” Stuttered Naruto, “Y-yeah, lemme ask her.” 

He turned to you, and you instantly saw fear in his big blue eyes. Fear because he’d pissed you off and you might deny him, certainly, but he also seemed nervous for some other reason you couldn’t pinpoint. 

It wasn’t a hard choice to make, you leveled eyes at him sternly. 

“You can go.” You say, “But don’t think this is over. We’re still gonna talk about it when you get home.” You raised an eyebrow at him and he nodded, uncharacteristically solemn. 

“OK.” 

“And Naruto?” You called as he was leaving with his friends. He swallowed, and turned, 

“Yes?” 

“Have fun.” 

The grin was back in an instant. “OK!” 

You waited till you were sure he was gone to release a frustrated little scream. 

*****

While he was gone you finished the cleaning, rolling up your sleeves and letting the ovens dry you off as you ran them through various cleaning cycles. You served a few more customers and then it entered the slow part of the day- between lunch and evening coffee- the shop front was empty and you found yourself staring into nothing and thinking. Your thoughts were still occupied by the prank, and it’s juxtaposition with the Naruto of last night- grateful and clingy - so much so that when a man materialized on the counter next to you it shook you, pretty badly. 

You kept a knife under the counter. A kunai, for emergencies and mostly because it made you feel safe. You had never once since opening had to pull it out, but now you reached; purely out of instinct; even as a short gasp escaped your lips. There was no time, of course; a strong hand gripped your wrist and effortlessly moved you backwards, and in a second your eyesight caught up with your brain and realized you wouldn’t have had a chance to use it even if you had managed. 

The man perched casually on your countertop was an Anbu. Lithe, dressed in black and gray, his face obscured by the white dog mask, silver hair protruding around it. 

“Woops, didn’t mean to startle you.” He said lazily as you gasped for air, trying to get a hold of yourself. 

“Oh didn’t you?!” You snapped back. “Well you might want to work on that approach, then, in the future.” 

He chuckled, unperturbed by your attitude, and although you couldn’t see his face, seemed to be looking around the shop. 

“What, uh,” You tried, “What can I do for you? Am I in trouble or something?” 

“No, no nothing like that.” He said assuringly, “Just checking up on things.” He seemed to fix you with those slanted false eyes, the real ones just a glitter somewhere far beneath, 

“How’s the fox?” 

You felt a chill go through you.  _ Of course _ . You should have known there would be organizations with an interest in Naruto. Naturally the right hand of the hokage would be one of them. But still, you had barely ever seen the anbu- they kept to the shadows. Covered their tracks. Having one of them sitting in the storefront where you made your living interrogating you seemed too real, too close. Still, scary as it was, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anger at the phrasing of his question. 

“ _ Naruto _ is at the park playing with his friends.” You said haughtily. “I expect I’ll be going to pick him up for dinner soon.

“There’s no need to get defensive,” he said, tone still apathetic “and I know  _ where _ he is. There’s a reason I asked it the way I did. I don’t want to know about the boy; I want to know about the fox.” 

You chew your lip, dumbly letting his statement hang there. 

“I...uh...I don’t-” You try, and then compose yourself, “I don’t know how to answer that. I haven’t seen a sign of it.” 

“Hm.” The anbu hound removed himself from the counter, turning to study the hot buttered rolls in the case, “When I read your file I wondered if you might not be the wrong person for this. Of course, the hokage’s decision is what it is, it’s not my place to say.”

You felt your ears heat with anger. “And why is that exactly? Because I’m more interested in the child than the kyuubi?” 

“Because you’re pretending it isn’t there.” 

He turned to face you, looming over you, and you felt suddenly afraid. 

“Kurama may be dormant now, but that won’t last forever. That’s a lot of power for a child to hold, are you prepared for that?” 

You sucked in a breath. “I’ll do everything I can to help him.” 

You expected a rebuttal, perhaps for him to mock you, but he only nodded. 

“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.” 

“I...wha…”

“I’ll be around.” He continued, “I’ve been assigned to keep an eye on you and Naruto. It isn’t my full time duty, so you can’t always count on it, but i'll try to check in as much as I can. You probably won’t see me unless you call for me.” 

“OK.” You say, and then, “Wait, so you’re just gonna be spying on us from now…” 

He was gone, in a puff of white smoke. 

“These damn shinobi.” 

****

You get a few more customers than you expected, for the five o’clock coffee hour, which is good because it means you surpassed your sales quote for the day but bad because by the time the shadows are starting to lengthen, you still haven’t even started dinner. You pull out a few easy ingredients and hurriedly close up shop, heading off to get Naruto. 

You walk in double time- the village is busy, people hurrying home from work or heading out for a night of fun. Nothing the anbu hound said gave you reason to think Naruto was in any danger from him, and yet you can’t help the gnawing feeling unease once you realize you haven’t seen him in nearly four hours. This, you figure unhappily, is just what it feels like to parent. 

As you approach the raised park you realize you’re not the only parent there to collect their child. Dozens of parents had the same idea, you realize. You see Yoshino’s back as she takes Shikamaru and Choji, and decide not to call out to them, in a hurry as you are. Your eyes frantically search the playground, until you finally find him; mop of vibrant yellow hair. He doesn’t see you, occupied as is in play; with a girl. 

You move closer to get a better look. She’s his age, pale with very dark hair and moony lavender eyes; he’s playing some kind of superhero or perhaps pirate, with the jacket you put on him this morning tied around his neck like a cape, and the little girl seems totally enraptured.

You duck back further into the bushes when he turns your way, not wanting him to see you yet and spoil their game; but it’s spoiled anyway. The girl is collected by a lady with the same moon-eyes, in the outfit of a nursemaid.  _ Oh,  _ you realize, swallowing down a sudden nervousness,  _ the Hyuga’s.  _ You watch closely, but although she looks uncomfortable the nanny doesn’t seem to say anything disparaging to Naruto, and the little girl waves at him shyly as she’s carried away. 

Now you realize most of the children are filing out with their parents, and as you watch, Naruto seems to notice as well. There’s a certain familiar sadness to his stance as he watches them go, facing away from you. You see him shove his hands in his pockets and round his shoulders, and you can’t wait any longer. 

“Naruto!” 

He whirls, looking for the voice, and when he finds you his eyes widen a second before his face splits into a wide grin. It’s a considerable distance across the playground and a three foot drop off of it, but he seems to breach it in a second, practically flying, and launches himself at you with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. 

You let out a pained  _ oof _ noise as you’re knocked onto your backside, but the seven-year-old only clings harder to your shirt. 

“You came!” He says happily, 

“Well naturally.” You respond, brushing playground dirt off of your rear and taking his hand, “We need to get dinner going.” 

“Yes! I’m starving!! Hey, hey! Can we have ramen? Hm?” 

“Lord in heaven, do you ever think of anything else?” 

“Hm...nope!” 

He adopts what you now know to be his “contented” walk, arms crossed behind his head, step wide and bow-legged. 

“So,” You say after a few minutes, “Did you have fun?” 

“Yeah!” He pipes up enthusiastically, “That Choji kid is really fun, and me and Shikamaru and him played this really cool game- well I didn’t totally understand it but Shikamaru did, anyway I think I kinda won one time, even though Choji said I cheated on accident. It was great!”

You nod, brain too tired to quite keep up with this spiel of information. 

“Sounds fun,” you say, and then, keeping your tone casual, “who was that girl I saw you playing with?” 

He blinks owlishly up at you, “Oh, her? I didn’t hear her name. She didn’t talk much, but she was nice I guess.” 

“You should try to learn people’s names Naruto, that’s how you make friends.” 

“Well she told me! But she said it real quiet and I didn't hear her, ya know?” 

You sigh, realizing you’re already turning into one of those parents with a vested interest in who their child hangs out with. “Next time just try to make sure you hear it. Then you can be friends, and maybe you can even invite her over to play sometime.” 

“OK. Hey, does this mean I’m not in trouble anymore?” 

You’re home now, and you slap a hand to your forehead in mock revelation. 

“Oh yeah! Thanks for reminding me! You most certainly are.”

He groans as he follows you in, kicking off his shoes by the door. 

“What am I gonna have to do?” He asks, following you stolidly into the kitchen where you’ve (probably unwisely) left a pot to simmer on the stove. 

“Do…?” You ask, tying on your apron.

“Yeah, like, chores or something. That’s what the old man always has me do when I get in trouble.” 

You huff, finding the simmer hasn’t quite separated your sauce yet. “Well that’s all well and good, but what I wanna know is  _ why  _ you did it.” 

Now it’s his turn to look confused. “The...prank? Just...for fun I guess. I dunno.” 

You flick the temperature control up, turn, and lift him onto the counter so you can look one another in the eye. 

“Don’t give me that. Now I know you’re a very smart kid. And you knew that I wouldn’t be happy to be drenched in cold water while I was working. So, what’s the deal?” 

“What is this, an interrogation?” 

“Call it what you want.” 

“Well I don’t know. I just thought it would be funny that’s all.”

“Was it because you were mad I made you take a bath?”

“No.” 

“Was it because I had you watch the front instead of letting you bake with me in the back?”

“No.” 

You pause, blink, the pieces suddenly fitting together. “It’s because I left you alone half the morning, wasn’t it?”

“No! I don’t care about that. I’m not a-”

“-You’re not a baby, I know, I know.” 

You round him, reaching up to grab some rice from the cupboard.. 

“You know Naruto, if you want my attention, all you have to do is ask. But sometimes, I will be busy. I have to make a living, you know.” 

He doesn’t respond, swinging his legs loudly back and forth on the cabinet door. 

“This time, I’ll let it slide with you cleaning up the front this morning. But the next time, there will be no going to the park with Choji and Shikamaru. You’ll be grounded, and trust me I will not make it a fun time, understood?” 

He puffs his lip and looks definitely at you (but it's the opposite of threatening, with those whisker marks on puffy cheeks), but you raise your chin and stare down at him and eventually he concedes. You don’t think the issue has been solved; far from it, probably, but at least there’s some groundwork now. 

The incident is forgotten as soon as dinner is served, the first dinner at home the two of you have had, and you run into a minor roadblock when he whines and complains about being made to help wash up:

(“Do we have to do it  _ now?” _ “When else are we gonna do it?” “...”) 

But eventually, all is sorted, and you sit on his cot upstairs to have him read you one of his new books. As you sit there with him sprawled across your lap, listening to him reading in a halting, deliberate tone, picking up speed as he became interested in the story, getting frustrated here and there with a word he didn’t understand; it occurs to you how unrecognizable your life has become in the matter of a few days. Just three mornings ago and you couldn’t have imagined spending a night like this; and now it seems so natural, as if everything before had just been a long vacation, and this was your real life. 

As you tuck him in, Naruto says, 

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

You pause, surprised, “No, of course not. Why?” 

He shrugs, as if the question was inconsequential to him. “Shikamaru’s really smart. He reads really well. I don’t know, I kinda wish I had better grades like he does.” 

It occurs to you with a twinge of panic that you forgot to ask Iruka what his grades actually  _ were _ . God, you were sucking at this. 

“Grades don’t indicate how smart you are,” You say carefully, “sometimes they just indicate how much help you’re getting. But if you’re worried, we still have two weeks to work on things.” You lean down to kiss him on the forehead, and he scrunches his nose up with delight, “and don’t let me catch you calling yourself stupid again. Or else.” 

He giggles at you, eyes wide, “Or else what?” 

You shake a fist at him in mock threat, “You’ll find out.” 

*** 

Back in your own room you waste some time shuffling your things around before you find a dusty old planner, unused except for a few old pages which you rip out. You find a pen and write in the upper margins “how to stop being shit at parenting week 1” and in the agenda portion, fill out your checklist:

  1. Procure more friends (rich little girl?)
  2. Better reading skills
  3. Address crippling abandonment issues
  4. An actual bed



You stopped writing, scrutinizing the list with a sigh. OK, so, you definitely weren’t a natural at this. A rustling noise from the oak tree outside your bedroom window startled you, and you clasped your robe tighter around yourself, going to the window to lean outside. There was no sign of anyone; the wind rustled very quietly through the leaves and you could see the outline of the moon over the Uchiha compound far in the distance. 

“If that’s you out there anbu,” You whispered into the trees, “You’d better get lost before I report you for stalking.” 

It’s an empty threat, of course, and garners no response, but you slam the window closed anyway as if you’d had the last word on the subject. 

Your dreams are discordant, disjointed; but not enough to wake you. Something about fire and foxes and watching eyes. When you finally jolt awake, Naruto is back in bed with you, curled into a little ball against your arm. There’s no telling when he got here; the clock reads nearly 4am, so you relent and cover him with the blanket, mentally adding another item to your checklist. 


	5. Part the Fifth: Of Youth and Yearbooks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The academy starts back, and reader sets out to procure all the help Naruto can get: and beggars can't be choosers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: I HAD to put Gai in this story and I will NOT apologize for making Naruto a Might Gai stan, because Gai is the best character and he should have had a hand in raising this kid   
> 2: I admit I am not a mother and didn't know that it's perfectly normal for kids to sleep in their parent's bed until age 7 or 8 until after I wrote this chapter and looked it up, which is why I have y/n often thinking about putting a stop to it, when actually that's perfectly normal and ESPECIALLY for a kid as touch-starved as Naruto.   
> 3: I have no idea how the academy works and I'm not about to do a deep-dive into Naruto lore for the sake of this fic, my apologies

As if in return for your due diligence in putting your plan into writing, or perhaps for letting the child sleep in the bed a second night (the last! You swore to yourself) the morning that followed was awe-inspiringly beautiful. You rose achy from a night of being kicked by a squirmy child, and in your groggy state didn’t realize you were up an hour earlier than normal until you’d dressed and made yourself some coffee. Sitting out on the porch in the dim pre-dawn light, you watched the sun rise over the village, the hokage’s office smeared red with light and birds singing on the rooftops. You weren’t out there long before Naruto must have realized his kicks were hitting empty air; the bed was empty. He came shambling out half-asleep, hair a ragged yellow mop and in his nightgown-sized T shirt, and clambered into your lap wordlessly before falling back asleep, his arms looped around your neck, drooling onto your pajamas. 

It was too cute to begrudge, and it didn’t really disturb your coffee drinking, so you simply allowed it. This also allowed something else to happen; per tradition, if you were to be out this early (which you rarely had time to be, with the bakery) you were greeted to a less than aesthetically pleasing, but no less amusing early morning sight. You didn’t know his name, but every morning since opening your shop a large man clad in a green jumpsuit had been out running, usually passing in four to five laps an hour depending on the pace. You had thought this was a reasonable length for an early morning mile, until someone had informed you that he was, in fact, running the length of the entire  _ village _ in that time. Which meant he was certifiably insane, and also incredibly fast. You’d never spoken to him (he didn’t seem the type to go for pastries, certainly a health nut) but he always flashed you a bright smile and a wave when he passed. 

Which made it puzzling when he pulled up short at the sight of you today, and bounded up to you at full speed. Up close he was, in order; 1) sweaty, 2) loud and 3) a lot to take in. Thick eyebrows, strong cheekbones and chiseled features, a horrendous bowl cut, and a booming voice to match. 

“Good morning!” He practically broadcasted at you. It startled you so much you nearly spilled coffee on your sleeping child, and you greeted him with your most annoyed look. 

“Good morning,” you whispered pointedly, “we’re not open yet, if that’s what you want to know.”

“Of course not! But it is good to see someone else out enjoying the energy of the morning! It takes a fiery spirit to venture out before dawn!” 

All of this was spoken at full volume, and you couldn’t take it anymore being polite. 

“Shhh”, you enunciated, indicating the slumbering child on your shoulder. The man’s expression softened, 

“Ah, of course. My apologies.” He said, volume lowered but still somehow managing to keep the dynamic timbre of his voice, “Not everyone is quite as youthful at this hour.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” You said, and then, setting your coffee beside you, offer him your hand, “I’m y/n, and this lump is Naruto.” 

He takes the hand offered and pumps it enthusiastically, “Might Gai! The Leaf’s Beautiful Green Beast at your service!” You wince, as he seems to have forgotten about the volume, but he forges on, “so this is young Naruto! I’ve heard a lot about him.” 

This is enough to put you on high alert. He doesn’t say it with malice or any indication of it, but regardless- 

“Oh?” you ask nervously, “and what have you heard?”

He relaxes his stance a bit, hands on his hips. “A good friend informed me that he will be starting the academy again soon, and may need some tutelage in taijutsu. As it turns out, this is my speciality! Which is why it’s so fortunate you were out here this morning enjoying the youthful exuberance of this beautiful morning! It saves me a trip coming to offer you my services as an instructor!” 

“Wait wait wait..” this is too much to process all at once, especially in your early morning fog, “Someone asked...but I haven’t even  _ seen _ his taijutsu scores yet! Who...who told you he needed a tutor, exactly?” 

“Ah,” Gai rubs his temple with an index finger, clearly embarrassed, “Perhaps I’ve said too much. I’m afraid i’m not able to tell you his name, but a close friend shared Naruto’s scores with me, with the boy’s best interests at heart of course!”

“Well I’m sure, but…” You pursed your lips, thinking. Surely Iruka would have mentioned it at dinner the night before last if he planned on getting Naruto a tutor, and there was no reason to keep his involvement a secret. It had to be someone who took an interest recently, someone who heard Naruto’s little spiel last night about his grades and had access to them…

“The anbu!” You blurted, fitting the pieces together. He had not only been listening, but he was one step ahead of you in your quest to prepare Naruto for school. If you had any doubts about your conclusion, Gai all but confirmed it for you with his nervous reaction. 

“Wha!? N-no, of course not! The anbu has nothing to do with - well nobody knows who the anbu are! So my friend couldn’t be among them.” and he punctuated this statement with a bad facsimile of a nervous laugh. 

You nod placatingly, “Of course, how silly of me. You’re right.” You say, if only to get him to quiet down. Naruto is beginning to awaken, for real this time, rubbing his face with a sleepy fist. You look up at Gai, still standing there awkwardly. 

“I appreciate the offer, but…”  _ I don’t know you from a stranger and you terrify me _ “I’ll need to think about it.” You finish. Your tone should probably have been a clear indicator that you weren’t interested, but instead of taking it that way Gai flashes you a brilliantly white grin and a thumbs up. 

“Of course! Take all the time you need. But remember there’s only a week and five days left until the academy start date, and young Naruto will have to start soon if we’re to drill the basics before then!” He reaches somewhere into his Jounin vest and hands you an address on a piece of paper that’s surprisingly not drenched in sweat, “if you wish to reach me you can do so here. I’ll look forward to meeting Naruto when he’s in a more youthful state of consciousness!” 

“Yeah…” You say noncommittally, “Sure. And thanks.” 

He’s already started jogging in place after handing you the card, kicking up a lovely cloud of dust which has rendered your coffee undrinkable, and as soon as you finish talking he flashes you another thumbs up and bolts off again at an ungodly pace. You shake your head, but there’s not much time to dwell on it before Naruto slides from your lap, blinking groggily at the sunshine and the disappearing form of Might Gai. 

“Who was that and why was he yelling so much?” 

You shrug. “Beats me. There’s weird people out this early.” You reach out to ruffle his irresistibly fluffy hair. “Like you, you wild child. Now go in and get dressed and brush your hair while I make breakfast, ok?” 

***

You put the thought of bowlcut guy and his strange connection to your anbu stalker friend out of your mind as you set about the morning routine. This time, instead of relegating him to the front, you allowed Naruto to roll up his sleeves, tie on one of your (absolutely huge on him) aprons, and help you. It takes a lot of patience (he’s not exactly stellar at following instructions) but eventually you’re able to get the basics of rolling and kneading dough into him, and he’s absolutely delighted by being allowed to make his own scones for breakfast. Better still, keeping him occupied means there’s no time for him to cook up any half-baked pranks, although the mess that he makes in the back is nearly equal to the one from yesterday. 

Still, it’s partially your fault, as when you look over to see his whiskered little face scrunched up in concentration, tongue barely poking out as he uses both hands to brutally pound a batch of sourdough, you can’t help but reach out and tweak his nose with a floury finger. 

“Hey!” he says, as you laugh at him, and immediately tries to return the favor, and misses, smearing your cheek with a white handprint. 

You take your revenge by bopping his forehead with your palm, leaving a perfect round mark, and he ups the ante by blowing a handful of the stuff into your face. 

You’re both laughing like idiots and absolutely covered in white when the shop door, still closed, is rapped on. 

“Ah hell,” you say under your breath, trying in vain to wipe the flour off of your arms and face with your elbow as you trundle out to greet your early customer. But it’s Yoshino who greets you at the door, holding a half-asleep Shikamaru. 

She blinks at your ghostly visage, before shaking herself out of it. “Morning, y/n. How are you?” 

There’s nothing cold in her tone, but you can tell she’s still a bit uneasy, probably due to the near argument you had the other day. “Morning,” you say brightly, “we’re still prepping, but you can come on in if you want.” 

She shakes her head, “No actually I thought I’d come by and offer Shikamaru for the day. As a helper, I mean.” 

Now it’s your turn to blink at her. 

“Are you sure? I thought…” 

“I behaved stupidly.” Said Yoshino, quickly, “I shouldn’t have...well I trust your judgment, y/n, and the hokage’s judgement. And well...Shikamaru seems to like Naruto, and he rarely takes a liking to other kids so fast, so…” She draws in a deep breath, as if frustrated, and she keeps talking, “please accept my apologies and let them be friends.”

You grin at her, unable to help yourself. “Of course.” You say, “god i’m so glad. Are you sure you don’t have time for a cup of coffee?” 

She looks equally relieved, the crinkles around her eyes softening at the edges, but she offers you a half-smile. 

“I wish i did, but it’s Choza’s birthday tomorrow and I have  _ so  _ much cooking to do, you know those Yamanka’s won’t bring anything substantial- anyway, maybe we can get together tomorrow. I expect you’ll be needing some advice- heaven help you, do you have enough academy clothes?”

“I- think so?”

The older woman pursed her lips at you, taking on the expression of a nonplussed mother. “Well, I’ll look through Shikamaru’s things later. Lord knows he’s outgrown some of them. Anyway, you still have a little over a week, so don’t panic just yet.”

You hadn’t been, but her tone makes it sound like school starting back is going to be far more terrifying than you thought. You nod, dumbly, spilling thanks to her which she brushes off, and she deposits her half-sleeping son into your arms. It’s weird, being handed off another’s child; like a right of passage into motherhood. Like passing some kind of test, “you haven’t accidentally killed yours yet so i suppose i can trust you with mine.” 

If poor Shikamaru had thought he was going to be able to sleep once his mother waved goodbye and you locked the shop door after her, his hopes were short lived. Naruto, (who you were surprised had stayed quiet so long), appeared from the back nearly the minute she was gone, and instantly alighted with joy upon seeing the dozing child in your arms. 

“Shikamaru!!” He shouted happily, bouncing up and down and showering the floor with flour. “Hey! Awesome! Are we going to the park again?!”

“Huh-uh,” The darker haired boy responded, rubbing his eyes tiredly and sliding easily out of your arms, “My mom brought me here to  _ work _ .” he sounded so miserable at the prospect you almost felt bad for him, as he turned his tired eyes placatingly up to you. 

“So- I guess you’ve got something for me to do?” 

You chew your lip thoughtfully. Morning prep was done, and having two kids (one of which you knew was going to go all out to impress his friend) running around under foot while you were trying to serve customers didn’t sound like the best of plans. Then again, sending them to the park when Yoshino had left him in your care didn’t seem right, either. You were still pondering when the shop bell rang again. 

You made a noise of annoyance- you still had ten minutes until you were officially open, after all- before moving to unlock it. 

The man who stood there took up the entire doorway. You recognized him at once, from his facial markings to his impressive maine of red hair- Chozo, the Akamichi clan head, and Choji’s father; the latter of which was held by his chubby little hand. 

“Ah-good morning!” You said brightly. “You’re a little early but..” your eyes drifted down to Choji, at the same time his drifted past you to Shikamaru and Naruto. 

“Come in.” You said, finally, and he did so. 

You were always a little nervous around clan heads. They all seemed to demand or expect different levels of respect, and since you were still a stranger to the Leaf, essentially, it was always hard to tell who was a big-shot and who only looked like one. But the Akamichi’s, you’d found, were generally the most easy-going and humble people you could ask to talk to; and they adored your cinnamon rolls, which was a big plus. 

“I passed Yoshino on my way into the village.” He said once he was inside, “I was planning to drop Choji off to play with Shikamaru, but she told me you’d very generously agreed to watch him for the day.” 

_ That wasn’t exactly the deal _ . You thought, but only smiled and said, “Yes, he and Naruto are my volunteer helpers today.”

The big man cast his eyes towards Naruto, who, face still covered with flour, stared back at him with large scared eyes. 

“So this is your little friend Naruto, hm?” Said Chozo easily, shaking Choji’s hand to get his attention,

The Akimichi boy, like his friend, not quite fully awake yet, blinked and said, “Oh, yeah- he’s really nice.” 

Chozo allowed a smile to cross his wide features. “Well then, anyone that Choji likes is good enough for me.” He extended a massive hand towards Naruto, who took a skittish step back, “Nice to meet you.”

You held your breath, silently willing Naruto to make a good impression. The whiskered boy looked at the hand outstretched, at you, at the man, before offering his own little hand with a rousing  _ slap _ and shaking it vigorously. You felt yourself release your breath, only to catch again at the next words that came out of his mouth;

“Gosh mister, you’re  _ gigantic. _ ”

It would have been fortuitous, probably, to play it off like a joke, but you couldn’t stop yourself from screaming  _ “Naruto!! _ ” at the top of your lungs in shock. Chozo for his part, only paused for a second, before breaking out into a full deep belly laughter. 

“What?!” Said Naruto, “It’s true!” 

You bridged the gap between you, clapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Enough! I’m so, so sorry Akamichi-san, uh, please help yourself to one of the cinnamon rolls…”

Meanwhile, while you were blabbering, Choji had moved over to face Naruto, 

“Hey! You better not be calling my dad fat.” 

Naruto wrenched your hand from his mouth, “Why not? He’s mmpph-” You covered it again, ignoring his struggling, as Choji’s father stood, still chuckling, wiping tears from his eyes. 

“You’ve got a feisty one there, no doubt about it.” He laughed, moving to pilfer one of the fresh cinnamon rolls on the counter, “I expect you’ll have your hands full until academy starts back. Oh well, thank you for watching them! We appreciate it.” 

Naruto and Choji were halfway to a brawl now, the former still locked in your half-hearted embrace but struggling to reach the other boy. Shikamaru had crawled onto the counter and put his back to the world, for all appearances sleeping there. It was two minutes until you were supposed to open. 

“No problem!” You smiled around your thrashing seven year old, “thanks so much for coming!” 

It was only after he had left, and you had managed to stop the fight, wake Shikamaru, and put the three to work buttering scones, checking timers and bagging orders respectively that you realized he’d unloaded another child on you. 

******

The day was nice, and warm and sunny. The back patio and little empty lot bordered with trees that accompanied your bakery was shady and isolated enough to be the perfect place for three kids to stay out of one harried bakery-owner’s way. So it’s here you deposited them, once the rush had died and you had time to whip up a filling lunch (filling for everyone but the Akamichi boy, but luckily he seemed to never be without a supply of snacks). Now, watching them through the kitchen as they played some odd game that involved them trying to knock an pinecone off a still Shikamaru’s head without being touched, you set about doing the dishes. 

Once that was done, you took a large pot and a metal spoon from the pile, marched upstairs to your side window, and began banging the two together. 

“Oh anbu!” You holler out into the summer air, “I need you to deliver a message for me! Hello?!!” 

You feel like an idiot, of course, but that’s to be expected. For a minute nothing happens, and you’re about to raise your pot and spoon to try again when a voice says, 

“I’m not here to be your errand runner, you know.” from directly behind your ear. “And I fail to see what you gain from purposefully blowing my cover.” 

You turn, swinging the spoon automatically in surprise, which he easily deflects. 

“Ah! There you are.” You smile in what you hope is an appealing way, “I just have a quick message for you to bring to someone. It won’t take you a minute, what with your roof-jumping window-stalking prowess and all.” 

The masked visage crosses his arms, “Maybe you’re not understanding me. My assignment is to watch over Naruto, not run errands for his caretaker. If I leave that post for a reason other than a direct order from my superiors, that’s abandonment.” 

As he’s talking, you reach back to untie the strings of your apron. 

“I was hoping you’d say something like that.” You say, and bundle up the flour-covered piece of clothing, thrusting it into his arms. “The kids are in the back, as you know. They’ve been fed and should stay occupied for another two hours at least. If they get thirsty, there’s a cooler on the counter with tea or water.” 

“W-wait just a minute! You think you’re leaving?” 

“Well I have to run this errand, and you’ve just told me you  _ have  _ to watch Naruto, so why shouldn’t I leave you in charge for a bit?” 

There’s silence from behind the dog mask. You wonder if he’s seething or contemplating killing you, but when he speaks again it’s with a note of defeat. 

“How long will you be gone?” 

“Twenty minutes, maybe thirty.” You promise, and rush down the stairs before he can change his mind and stick a kunai in the back of your neck. 

Out the back, the three boys barely notice when you wave at them from the patio. 

“I’m going to run a quick errand, but I've asked a neighbor to keep an eye on things.” you call, and they all nod, “Shikamaru’s in charge while I’m gone.” 

“Aww what?! Why not me?!” 

You ignore Naruto’s protestations and slide the door closed. You don’t see the anbu; he didn’t follow you down the stairs; but you’re sure he’s around and watching, so you flip the sign to “out to lunch” on the door and head off. 

****

It takes several wrong turns, and several inquiries to find Iruka. Iruka, who is apparently already settling into his role for the next semester, is in a classroom in the empty academy, setting up posters on proper shuriken form and safety. You enter with reverence you didn’t expect; this is Naruto’s schoolroom after all, one he’s familiar with. He’s spent far more time here than he has with you. On the wall a colorful banner made from construction paper and paste featured the children’s drawings, probably from the past year. Your eyes scan it, and it doesn’t take you long to find Naruto’s. It’s a colorful picture of him standing in what looks like a field of flowers, or stars…? Holding a huge bowl of what you can easily guess is ramen aloft in one hand. It takes you a minute to parse out why it was so easy to find; until it hits you. The rest of the pictures feature various stick versions of students and their parents and siblings; there’s shikamaru, yoshino and his father. There's Tsumi Inuzuka’s unmistakable likeness drawn by one of her children. Naruto’s figure is the only one that stands on the page alone. The theme must have been “family”. 

“Let me try and guess,” Said Iruka from behind you, startling you out of your momentary depression, “you realized you didn’t have Naruto’s grades from last year?”

You recovered from the initial jump, turning to greet him with a smile “So you do mind reading as well as teaching, huh?” 

He grinned, removing a folder from the desk next to him. “I realized as soon as I’d gotten home yesterday. I normally send these home with the parents, but in his case I've just been keeping them.” He hands you the envelope, and you pause your initial desire to rifle through it. 

“Anything I should know?” 

Iruka allows a fondly sympathetic look to cross his features. “Naruto tries very hard.” he begins with, which is never a good way to start a report, “in fact he tries too hard. He goes into things with way too much enthusiasm and when he doesn’t get it first try he gives up. He doesn’t understand the concept of practice makes perfect, and he refuses to slow down and master one thing before moving onto the next. He’s also easily distracted, very susceptible to peer pressure, talks too much during class, doesn’t get enough sleep, doesn’t understand personal space, and often instigates fights.” 

You swallow, only able to nod dumbly for a minute. “Uh, great. Anything else?”

“Not off the top of my head, but that’s only what I’ve gathered from having him in the academy for one year. If you want to work on him, that’s a good starting point.” 

“As far as his scores though- any recommendations?” 

“Oh, yes, i’m glad you asked! He needs taijutsu lessons, and badly. He was way behind the grade last semester and unless he’s practiced all Summer- and I highly doubt that- he’ll be held back a grade if he doesn’t bump his scores up.” 

You draw in a deep breath, hand already fishing out the slip of paper in your pocket. 

“I was afraid you were gonna say that.” 

****

The address Might Gai gave you isn’t to an apartment or a compound or a house; it’s just a shinobi training ground, a featureless clearing in the woods on the outskirts of the village littered with wooden posts for practice. However, true to his word, the green-clad man is there; you watch him tear through a set of seventy pushups in record speed and with no sign of stopping before deciding to interrupt. 

“Ah!” He says, leaning back on his haunches, “Now that  _ was _ a fast decision! I can tell the fire of a youthful spirit burns brightly in you, young mother!” He booms. 

You wince at his egregious enthused tone, but he seems to get the message and allows you to speak

“Listen, I still need to talk to Naruto about this so nothing is set in stone yet, but before I hire you there are two things I need to know.”

“Of course! Ask away.”

“One, how much are the lessons? I don’t want to sound cheap. I understand from Iruka that you’re a Jonin and the person to come to for anything Taijutsu, but you have to understand- I run a bakery not a bank.”

He blinks at you, obviously confused, “How much...? Oh! No no, the lessons will be on me, of course!” 

You narrow your eyes suspiciously, “Why…? You’re a bigshot Nin. That’s a lot of time out of your schedule to be training a kid you don’t know.” 

“My good friend who shall-not-be-named informed me of the whole situation, and the child’s story moved my heart! Your son’s goal of becoming hokage despite his hopeless, abysmal scores- such spirit!” He actually looked like he might tear up, and so you took a cautious step back, but he seemed to recover himself quickly, “Besides, this will be excellent training for me as well!”

“Training?” 

“Indeed. One day I hope to be assigned my own genin squad to lead, and I want to hone my skills as a teacher in the meantime!” 

You pursed your lips, thinking. 

“OK,” You said at least, “the other thing is this- will you be nice to him?”

He furrowed his considerable brows at you, and you went on quickly, 

“I don’t mean coddle him or anything, but, he’s very- he wants very much for people to like him and he’s crushed when he thinks he’s missed that opportunity. And you seem nice and all, but I don’t know you; if you have some hidden vendetta against him that I don’t know anything about I need to know you’ll put it aside to help him.” 

There was silence for a minute, a rarity, you expected, with this man. For the first time there was a halfway serious look across his features,

“You can trust me,” He said at last, “I give you my word as a shinobi I will treat Naruto like any other little boy,” and then suddenly the dazzling grin was back on his face, and he struck a thumbs up pose- “And I also promise that if I can’t raise his Taijutsu scores to be as good as - no, better than anyone in his class, I will do seven-hundred weighted pushups until I succeed!” 

You blinked, shaking your head to dispel the phantom back pain that accompanied such an image. 

“Alright,” You chuckled, “You’ve convinced me of your honesty. I still need to talk to Naruto, but- what time do you want to start?”

“Four AM on the dot tomorrow morning!” 

“Like hell. Seven thirty.”

“Five!” 

“Six forty-five.” 

“...Six?”

“Deal.” 

****

You waited to breach the subject of his tutelage until Choji and Shikamaru were collected that evening, not long after you had returned to find them clamoring about “some mysterious man” Choji swore he saw stop a rock Naruto threw from hitting Shikamaru. Neither of the other boys had seen him, though, so they concluded it must have been a) a ghost or b) a forest spirit, and had taken to rattling through the bushes with sticks trying to coax him out. 

You managed to steer them onto another activity shortly before Yoshino arrived to pick the two boys up, promising to return tomorrow for breakfast if she had the time. When it was just you and Naruto alone in the shop, you turned, hands on your hip, and painted a big grin across your face. 

“Good news!” You said, “You’ve got a tutor!”

“A what?” He asks,

“Someone to teach you.” 

“I thought Iruka-sensei did that?”

“Well he will, but, this man is going to give you  _ more  _ teaching, so that you can be even better in school this year.” 

This was enough to pique his interest. 

“Like special training?” He asks, eyes lighting up,

“Sure. And get this-” you lower your voice, glancing around conspiratorially, “I got you a Jonin.”

“A jonin?!” He squeaks, “Wow! How did you do that?” 

“I can be very charming when I want to be, believe it or not.” You joke, and he sticks his tongue out in mock disgust

“As if!” 

“You better watch yourself before you charm me out of making you dinner.” 

“Hey, hey what’s he like? The jonin? Is he cool?” 

“He’s very...loud.” you say, sweeping him up and heading for the kitchen, “But so are you, so I think you’ll get along just fine.” 

“Hey!” 

*************

Even though you’d argued him down to six, the sight of Gai so early in the morning, in all his green glory, was a lot to contend with. Clearly this was also the case for poor Naruto, groggy and still-half asleep despite being woken dressed and fed half an hour ago. The child stared up slack-jawed at him, standing in the doorway, for a full silent minute before looking at you. 

“This is your new Taijutsu teacher,” You said encouragingly, “go on and introduce yourself.” 

“Naruto.” He said simply, a hint of awe in his voice, “Naruto Uzumaki.” 

“Well met, young Naruto!” Gai grabbed the hand he’d barely outstretched, pumping it vigorously, “I am Might Gai, Konoha’s Brilliant Green Beast! And as I told your mother, I have made it my personal mission starting today to make you the best Taijutsu user in your class!” 

Naruto screws up his face, “I’m no good at Taijutsu. Even Iruka-sensei knows that.” 

“But you will be!” He says, undeterred, “The first thing we must fix is your confidence! But this training will be a lot of hard work, are you prepared for it?” 

Naruto cocks his head to the side like a curious dog, “you mean if I work hard enough with you I can get good at taijutsu?” 

“The best in class! We will accept no less.” 

The whisker face boy looks thoughtful before breaking into a smile, “Hey! Then I could get my name on the wall with the top students! That would be awesome!” 

“Yes! Hold onto that enthusiasm! It’s good to have a goal to work towards!” 

“OK! Let’s do it!” 

Your son’s volume had been steadily rising to meet Gai’s, and at this point they were practically shouting at each other. At six AM. You winced over your coffee cup, 

“What time will you have him back?” You asked before they could power away. 

“Twelve-thirty!” Gai promised, “And I’ll give you a full report on his improvements then!” 

You raised your eyebrow, but didn’t bother asking what kind of improvements he expected to see in one day. 

“Alright, have fun- and Naruto,  _ be polite _ .” 

“OK. Hey- what should I call him?” 

“Sensei of course, he’s a teacher.” 

“But Iruka is sensei!” 

“Yes, he’s Iruka-sensei and this is...uh...Gai-sensei,” 

“...And I can call you Mom?” 

You froze. Naruto immediately flushed with embarrassment, averting his eyes as though he’d hoped you wouldn’t notice the question and simply give an offhand answer. People had been referring to you as Naruto’s mother for days now- it always gave you a bit of a reality check, like a bucket of ice water thrown on what was now becoming commonplace. But to hear Naruto award you the title…

You swallowed, and managed a smile, 

“Of course you can.” 

“Thanks- uh, I mean OK. Mom.” 

You moved to gather him into a short hug, and heard ugly sobbing; not your own, though. Gai, apparently moved to tears, was standing behind the two of you, tears dripping down his chin. 

“Alright,” You said, releasing Naruto in embarrassment, “Begone. And you’d better both behave.” 

“Of course!” Promises Gai, instantly snapping back from his momentary lapse in countenance. 

“OK!” Shouts Naruto, volume now firmly set on it’s top notch. You see them off into the hazy sunlight of the morning, heart aching just a little; this is going to have to stop, you tell yourself, this separation anxiety. 

*********

Things fell into an odd rhythm. From the chaos of the past week since taking a running blind dive into motherhood, some semblance of a routine began to form. Each morning at six on the dot, Might Gai would finish his run and come and fetch Naruto, and bring him back just as punctually at twelve thirty. The boy that left was always groggy, grumbly and tired; but the boy that came back was twice as exhausted, bruised, sweaty and beaming with pride; apparently he was making quick progress. 

“He has a great deal of potential.” Gai told you, on one of the not-so-rare days you tempted him into staying for lunch, “His stamina is unmatched in a boy his age. He just needs to have his enthusiasm tempered.” 

Although he was full of smart comments about his new sensei’s appearance and manner, it was obvious after a few days that they got along like a house on fire, as you had expected. Naruto would return full of funny anecdotes about Gai but also buzzing about the praise he received and the new techniques he’d learned, so it seemed to be working out. 

Meanwhile, you had the time to try and reorder things to fit a child. Yoshino, now officially taking you under her wing, arrived in the shop one day with a load of Shikamaru’s old clothes (and some you suspected she’d bought new), books and toys he no longer had an interest in. She wouldn’t hear your protests, and the next day you closed early and, while Naruto was training, went out and bought him a real bed. 

It was nothing fancy, but as you rearranged your plants and sacrificed your trendy decor to give him more floor space, you felt another nail in the coffin of your previous life. You meant it to be a surprise for him when he returned from training, so you also purchased a used set of dresser drawers and an orange rug (this was a painful, but personal touch) and set out the toys Yoshino had donated. It looked now, for all intents and purposes, like an airy child’s bedroom. It felt like it always had been. 

It had been two weeks; ( _ only two weeks?  _ The prospect seemed mind boggling) five days ago you had stood in the hokage’s office again and told him, yes, this is permanent. Tomorrow morning Naruto would start his second year at the academy. And it was, now, completely unimaginable that things should ever go back to the way they were before. 

****

Gai kept Naruto extra long that day, per your request, to give you time to have his bedroom and school clothes ready when he got home, and also to cram for tomorrow’s placement tests. You also went the extra mile and purchased Ichiriku’s ramen to-go. Three meals, since you guessed (correctly) that Gai would also be hungry after a long day corralling the whisker-faced boy. 

He burst through the doors at six just a minute or two after you got home with the food, covered head to toe in dirt and scratches and looking like death warmed over. But that wasn’t the first, or the worst, thing you noticed.

“I punched him!” He shouted upon seeing you, and then before you could protest ran and hugged you tightly around the waist, bouncing with excitement, “I  _ punched  _ him in the face mom!!” 

Guy shambled in behind him, looking fairly worn out himself but much more in keeping with his normal state of being. You pulled back, holding your son at arm’s length, utterly horrified. 

“WHAT are you  _ wearing?!”  _ You shouted before you could help yourself. 

Gone was the plain white T-shirt and khaki shorts you’d sent him off in this morning, and in its place Naruto wore a green cotton jumper, clearly meant to be skin-tight but a size or two too big for him, so it was rolled up his wrists and ankles and bunched around his waist. Without Gai’s jounin flak jacket and headband tied around the waist he looked like a green bean with a mop of tangled yellow hair on top. 

“Oh yeah! I messed up my clothes so Gai-sensei gave me this cool jumpsuit,” Explained Naruto as though this was a trivial matter and not a horrific eyesore, “He says it has,” he he glanced cheekily back at his teacher and pulled one of his poses, doing his best vocal impression, “‘moisture wicking properties and breathable fabric’. Pretty cool huh?” 

You try to catch Gai’s eye to transmit your killing intent, but he won’t look at you, scratching the back of his neck as he surveys the ceiling, the floor, etc. 

“Mmm.” You said, fully intending to burn the thing as soon as it’s off of him, “Well, eat your dinner, I have a surprise for you.” 

“But I have to tell you about how I punched...wait, is that  _ ramen _ ?!?” 

He flew past you, a green blur, all thoughts of his training gone as he scarfed down the ramen like a child possessed. 

“We did have lunch,” Promises Gai, “But I'm afraid he worked up quite an appetite in our sparring. Also, er, I apologize about his clothes. I can- happy to repair them myself.” 

You wave him off, handing him his bowl of ramen, “They were for training, and totally worn out, don’t worry about it,” You’re almost tempted to let him try to repair it, if only because the image is so funny to you. 

“Anyway, status report; how do we look for school tomorrow?” You continued, quickly before he could begin insisting it wasn’t your job to feed him dinner. 

“Oh! Excellent! He’s made astounding progress!” He glances at Naruto, mostly out of earshot and too engaged in his ravenous ramen eating to listen to him, and your gaze follows, “But his confidence is still slightly lacking.” He continues in a lower register. 

“Hence the punch in the face?” You whisper. 

He winks at you, flashing a thumbs up, “A bit of reassurance never hurt!” He says, “I’ve very much enjoyed having him as a student and I hope…” He trailed off a bit, staring into the ramen bowl, “I hope you’ll allow me to continue training him even after the academy starts. I will have missions soon, of course, but whenever I can. I still have much I’d like to teach him.”

“Hhmm, free Jounin level taijutsu lessons? I’m gonna have to turn that down.” You joke, and watch as his face visibly falls,

“Oh, I see. Well of course that’s your decision as his…”

“No you mook, of course I want you to keep training him.” You laugh, and Naruto looks up from his bowl (finally) mouth full of noodles. 

“H’s gonna kmp trmn m?” 

“Yes, and don’t talk with your mouth full.” 

Both sensei and student shared a gleaming thumbs up and smile that was far too in-sync for your liking. 

The rest of dinner you were regaled through ramen-filled mouthfuls by the thrilling tail of their sparring match which had ended with, purportedly, a decisive victory by Naruto, until it was finally time to hustle Gai out the door. You made a cursory agreement to move Naruto’s lessons to the evenings after school, and shorten them, and then he was finally gone and it was finally time to reveal your son’s new room to him. 

“WOW!” He shouted as soon as he’d made it up the stairs, “This is so great! Way cooler than Shikamaru’s room!! He’s gonna be so jealous.” And he went, chortling, to try and jump on his nicely-made new orange bedspread, but you stopped him with a hand in the back of his filthy jumpsuit. 

“No way hozea, go get yourself a bath before you touch anything.” 

“OK! Hey, can you wash this jumper for me?” 

You close your eyes, drawing in a deep breath for strength. “...Why…?” 

“I wanna wear it to school tomorrow! It’s great to move in!” 

_ God help me, I’ll murder that man.  _ “I...uh, we’ll see if I have time.” You lie, and he accepts this, running off to get washed up. 

********

You’d made a pact with yourself when you bought the new bed that this marked the end of Naruto’s nightly pilgrimages into yours. He was seven, perfectly old enough to sleep in his own bed. Of course, the traitorous part of your brain told you, he’d missed out on all the years children normally had a parent closeby. But tonight, you promised yourself, you would kindly but firmly insist he try and sleep the night in his own bed. 

But when he finally came into yours, sometime past midnight, you were so tired and so used to it you didn’t really register the change until you’d fallen back to sleep for a few moments. 

“Naruto,” You whispered, there was no response. 

“Naruto!” you whispered louder, and shook the slumbering child in front of you the slightest bit. 

“Mmmh.”

“Why are you here?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you here and not in your own bed?” 

Groggily, his cerulean eyes blinked you in the darkness and then closed, snuggling closer to your side. 

“Cause’.” He said, muffled by the sheets. 

“Naruto,’ He was clinging to you, stubbornly ignoring your question and preparing to put up a fight if you insisted on sending him back to bed. His face was pinched in tired distress, and you noticed wetness on his cheeks.

Shuffling over to better face him, you smoothed some hair away from his forehead. 

“Alright, alright, you can stay,” You whisper, “but can you tell me why you came in here? Did you have a bad dream?” 

“Sometimes I have dreams, yeah.” He says, face still firmly buried in the coverlet, “But they don’t scare me or anything.”

“About what?” 

He cringes a little closer to your side, hands balling into fists in the sheets and your cotton pajamas, “sometimes I have dreams that I wake up back in my old room, and that I dreamed this all up instead. And sometimes I have dreams about...I don’t know...some big monster, setting stuff on fire-or people taking me away, or other stuff…” 

You drape an arm over him, and he curls up even further into your embrace. 

“I don’t ever wanna go back there, ever.” He says into your ear, and you kiss him on the forehead, feeling his eyes droop closed again. 

_ Well, to hell with that resolution.  _ You think, staring off into the undefined darkness of the moonlit clouds out the window,  _ at least the bed looks nice. _


	6. Part the Sixth: Benefits and Rewards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto starts the academy, reader develops separation anxiety. Gai is still Gai though, so that's good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you happen to like Hiashi Hyuga, Hinata's father, please do yourself a favor and skip this chapter because i can't stand that bitch. Also, went on a bit of a rabbit trail here and incorporated some self-indulgent nonsense about reader being a former shinobi, so i hope that won't detract from the story too much. Lastly, I know i'm spending a lot of time on Gai but I want to reiterate there won't be any shipping in this story, so don't worry.

It was hot and stuffy in the academy hallways. Tiny little bodies, many with hands clutched in the arms of adults, swarmed around you, running to catch classes. The air was thick with trepidation for the first day of a new school year; a tangible nervousness you could taste in the air. Or maybe it was just you that was this nervous, and all the rest was trepidation. 

It was ridiculous, really. Two and half weeks ago you hadn’t known of the existence of this child, but now the idea of leaving him here seemed horrific, wrong. Last year he’d walked himself to class  _ alone _ , you reminded yourself. Received his assignments, walked home, had dinner; all alone; without you. He could certainly be expected to live through the regular school day in the care of Iruka. 

You swept him up, out of the way of a group of older kids who rushed by, and held him at your side, anxiously. Maybe homeschooling wasn’t such a bad option after all?

As if he could read your thoughts, the boy wonder currently clutched in your arms like a prized ham said, “I can’t wait to show Iruka-sensei what I’ve learned, boy is he gonna be surprised!” He said this in a whisper, abet a very loud one, directly next to your ear. “And Gai-sensei says if I get my name up on the wall with the top of the class, he’ll buy me my own pair of nun-chaku like his!” 

“You just take it easy and don’t overdo it on the first day of school.” You chide, trying to quell the storm of anxiety inside of you. Surely Gai could just teach him full time, right? You didn’t  _ need  _ to leave him here?

Before you could completely lose nerve and pull him out of school, you were disturbed by a tugging on your pant leg. You looked down to find Shikamaru, Choji and another boy- a wild haired, wild eyed one that must be an Inuzuka, judging by the facial markings- in a little gaggle at your feet. 

“Are you guys lost?” Asks Shikamaru, with an early morning apathy that was very advanced for his years. 

“No,” You respond, “Thank you though.” You gulp, turning to meet Naruto’s big blues. He’s still, but obviously expecting you to let him down so he can go off with his friends. You chew your lip unconsciously. You’d really wanted to talk to Iruka before letting him run off...

“Oh, hi Hinata!” Shouts the Inuzuka boy, suddenly. You follow his line of sight and see the little girl from the park, the Hyuga, hand in hand with what must be her father disappearing down the far hallway. She turns back and smiles with a shy little wave before dissipating into the crowd. 

This little distraction is enough time for Naruto to squirm his way out of your arms. The hallway is clearing now, as most kids are rushing to get good seats in their respective classrooms. You know this is where you part ways; your window of time to cajole Iruka has closed; so you suck it up and say, 

“Have fun, Naruto. Behave yourself.” 

He turns to you, grin a mega-watt bulb, blinding in its intensity, “Goodbye Mom, love ya!” 

You waved at him as he disappeared down the hallway, the head of his little group of friends. It’s a little hard to wave when you feel like you’ve been sucker-punched in the gut and you might start gushing tears at any minute (damn that Might Gai- this was his influence) but you manage. 

*****

There’s absolutely no shame in watching through academy windows, you tell yourself. It was something mothers probably did all the time, on the first day of school. Probably. 

OK; you weren’t really going to  _ watch  _ so much as check on things. Just to make sure he was gotten to the right class and was behaving.

OK: you’d just casually pass by the window on your way back home. No shame in that. 

As you crossed the outdoor breezeway, you saw the back of someone ahead of you. Not just any someone; the tall man in traditional robes was the father of the little girl- Hinata, the Inuzuka had called her- Naruto’s little park playmate. Trailing behind him was another man, dressed in more traditional nin-clothes; perhaps a bodyguard. Well, if you couldn’t be useful by spying in the academy windows, you could at least help Naruto by procuring a playdate with his friend. 

“Excuse me!” You called just as he was crossing the threshold out into the spring air. 

As soon as he turned you felt a chill go through you. Unlike with the little girl, being fixed with those blank, pupil-less eyes from this man felt like being looked through, rather than at. And there was more than that; a coldness, the mark of a hard ruler, was etched into this man’s face. He was someone who clearly demanded respect, and got it, most likely. The bodyguard fell behind him, standing ceremoniously to the side at attention; he had the same eyes as the man, you tried not to look at him. 

“I-I’m sorry to disturb you.” You faltered, “but our children will be attending the academy together, so I thought it would be good to get acquainted. Uhm. I’m y/n, Naruto’s mother.” 

Despite the lack of an outright reaction you saw a palpable change in the man’s face, a hardening of the jaw perhaps, at the last part. But he kept his tone even and calm as he said, 

“Hyuga, Hiashi. Head of the Hyuga clan. My daughter is Hinata, as you likely know.” 

You smile in what you hope is a disarming way. “Yes, actually. That’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, the two of them…” 

“Your son has some association with my daughter?” 

You faltered, mouth open, not expecting the rude interruption from someone so high ranking. 

“Uh, well, not  _ really _ persay, it’s...they’ve played together before and I just thought, uhm,” You swallowed. God, the man’s stare was  _ ice _ . “Uh, they might want to...do it again...sometime?” 

Hiasha shuffled in his robes, turning fully to face you. You saw his mouth twitch downward, a barely defined gesture of disdain.  _ Oh, guess not _ . 

“I’ve heard of you,” He said finally, tone cool, “As the head of my clan I’m informed of many things that go on in the village. And I’m glad I have this chance to meet you, and experience your arrogance for myself.” 

You blinked, taken aback. “My...excuse me?!” 

  
“The arrogance it takes for an outsider to this village to think she knows the first thing about how to handle it’s affairs, and the audacity to believe that I would allow any member of our clan, much less my first born heir, to associate with  _ that boy _ , is nothing short of amazing.” 

You could feel that hot-brand of broiling anger welling up inside of you, but you tried to squelch it. Out here, in the schoolyard, was not the place to be caught trying to assassinate the head of a powerful clan. You closed your eyes, and opened them again, feeling your back teeth grind together with the effort it took to keep your voice controlled. 

“I am just as much a member of this village as you are,” You manage, “And so is ‘that boy’. And we have every right-”

“You have a right to whatever the hokage has allowed you, but do not think for a minute that makes you untouchable. The Hyuga, as well as other powerful figures, have their eyes on you.” 

“Why?!” You’re practically shouting, and you see the body guard’s right hand flex, but neither he or Hiashi make a move, “What issue can you possibly take with my giving him a home? Raising him? What the hell is wrong with that?!” 

Hiashi’s voice is completely unaffected. “Because that boy is a weapon, and a powerful one.” 

You draw up short, a chill going through you, the Anbu’s words replaying in your mind: 

_ That’s a lot of power for a child to hold, are you prepared for that? _

“I don’t want it falling into the wrong hands. And you- I’m not convinced you are the right hands.”

You fume, hand fisting into your tunic top, wanting nothing more than to rush him and wipe that cool haughty look off of his face. But you know you wouldn’t make it within a foot of him. You straighten instead, glaring. 

“Well regardless of whether you’re ‘convinced’ or not,” You begin, attempting to control yourself, “I’m his mother now. And I’m not going to stop being his mother, you can count on that.” 

He sniffs, obviously unimpressed with your display. “Keep him away from my daughter.” 

********

To say your murderous rage was radiating off of you might have been slightly on the dramatic side, but regardless, it felt that way, and the breadth of space the citizens gave you as you marched through town seemed to confirm it. The bakery was closed that day, which was good; you thought at this point a single bad customer interaction might have sent you on a rampage. You had planned to spend the day organizing Naruto’s academy clothes and cleaning the house; but your nerves over his first day, coupled with your most recent interaction with holier-than-thou Hyuga made you fear for your ability to safely exist indoors. So, you veered left at the main street, and walked until you saw the familiar clearing of training ground 9 and it’s tree-ringed field littered with training dummies. 

Gai was there, predictably, drenched in sweat and performing a kata that looked like a cross between a dance routine and a shanking. Normally you would have waited for him to finish before interrupting, but today your patience was worn desperately thin. 

“Hi,” You said, “I need to punch things. What do you recommend?” 

He turned, looking completely confused to see you, but allowed an easy lopsided smile onto his face anyway. 

“Ah, good morning young mother! I see that fiery youthful spirit of yours has been turned to training pursuits today! How wonderful!” 

“Punch. Things.” You insisted, “Now.” 

“Ah- of course!” He removed himself from out of the way of a straw training dummy, and you immediately launched yourself at it, swinging clumsily but forcefully, the hit landing with a satisfying “thud”. Your form was bad, though, and although it didn’t break your wrist it  _ did _ hurt like hell, which only compounded your anger. Not really caring now, you threw yourself full-force at the unfortunate dummy, splintering straw and rope in your onslaught and probably doing far more damage to yourself than it. 

Gai watched you quietly for a few moments as your onslaught (of what probably looked to him like mindless flailing) continued, before clearing his throat. 

“How did Naruto’s first day of school go?” He asked diplomatically. You paused mid-kick, feeling your leg protesting loudly against it’s too-sudden strain. 

“Great!” You said, sanguine. “He should be having a great time. Friends, a good teacher, he’s set!” You drew in a deep breath, straightening dramatically and trying to disguise your flinch as your knuckles began throbbing. “It’s his stupid mother that needs to relax. I’ve just...it’s been a stressful morning.” 

“I see.” Said Gai. He looked from the training dummy, to you, and back, 

“Spar?” 

“You have to be kidding.” You laugh, indicating your abused hands, “You’ve just seen about the extent of my power. Well, that and my sourdough work.” 

“Nonsense! You have excellent speed!” Gai compliments, “and nothing works out the tribulations of life like a friendly match! I promise I will go easy on you, and if I go overboard, I will do three hundred one-handed pushups!” 

“If  _ you  _ go overboard on me I won’t be around to see them.” You mutter, and then, a cool breeze swept up and around you, and you said, “Oh ok, to hell with it.” 

It was a very short match. 

To his credit, Gai  _ did _ go easy on you. He tried to, anyway. As the match started you managed to come in close to him through a familiar combo of high kicks aimed at the face followed by low punches aimed at the ribs; a predictable attack pattern. He dodged deftly but didn’t return fire, letting you get some ground on him and gauging your ability; once you were past his defences, you went for the money shot; it took some doing to remember how to summon chakra into your left hand, shaping it into a dull-edged weapon you planned to use land a winning blow in his side. Unfortunately, that second’s hesitation in building the chakra was all he needed; a slow left fist aimed at your head barely missed, throwing you off guard. You dodged, jumping back and throwing your right arm up to try and counter; but this left your side unguarded. In a move that was both reflexive and far, far faster than anything you could imagine doing his left leg swung around and met your rib-cage, sweeping you up with it and propelling you across the field, to land in an undignified heap with an equally undignified “oof” noise as the wind was knocked from your lungs. 

Gai was at your side in an instant, helping you up and spilling apologies. You waved him off as you tried to regain your breathing, 

“No, no- you didn’t hurt me.” You managed after a minute. And it was true; although your side would likely sport a lovely bruise, had he been fighting in earnest or even truly sparring, it could have easily cracked every rib it contacted, or worse. “Just goes to show how-  _ agh- _ how out of practice I am.”

“True!” Says Gai, and you shoot him a glare that he misses, “But nevertheless you have excellent chakra control and flexibility for someone who has given up the life of a shinobi.” 

“Unf,” You try to stretch your back out and feel a shooting pain go through you from your protesting muscles, “If you say so.” 

“May I show you a few tips to improve? If you have the time of course.” 

You side-eyed him. On the list of things you had planned to do with this day off, “training with Might Gai” ranked pretty low in the running, and yet- your nerves were occupied with the tremulous morning, and it  _ had  _ been kind of fun to spar again…

“Sure,” You said, already knowing you would regret it. 

The next three hours were spent receiving tips on your form (too open, too loose), on your physical strength (lacking in just about every area, big surprise) and so on and so forth. For all his blustering, Gai was a surprisingly succinct teacher, and you found yourself, at least for a short time, rekindling your love of the martial arts. You were bruised and sore and dirty and drenched in sweat, but enjoying yourself, and come a little after lunchtime it would have taken something pretty important to make you want to break away. And that something did come; jogging up to the training grounds as Gai was attempting to show you the arm movements for a basic chakra-summoning kata.

It was Iruka, holding a dirty and bloodied Naruto. 

*****

All the good work of improving your mood for the last few hours was instantly forgotten. 

“What happened?!” You gasped, immediately flying past Gai to gather up the boy. He threw his arms around you without hesitation, attempting to hide his face in your neck, but you held him out, examining him. His nose was bleeding; snot mixing with the blood dribbling down his mouth and chin. His right eye was puffy and darkened, but it was hard to tell the extent of the bruising from the dirt that seemed to be ground into his every pore. 

“He had a fight.” Said Iruka from somewhere beside you, “Well- it was pretty one-sided. The boy was older and, an exchange student, and well…”

You ignored him, “Naruto, baby, look at me, are you OK?” 

He met your eye for a half second, lip puffed and quivering, before nodding tightly and making another attempt to hide his face. This time you let him; realizing he was making a valiant attempt not to cry in front of his sensei’s. 

“What prompted this?” Asked Gai, his voice uncharacteristically grim, “Why didn’t anyone step in?” 

“It happened in the training yard at lunch- behind the building. There were only a few other children around, and one of them came and got me when the fight started; but in the time it took him…” He trailed off, “I’m so sorry; I didn’t realize…the other boys said Naruto started it, but they’re all friends...I’m still looking into it.” 

“We’re going home.” You say, voice quiet, “You can tell me the details tomorrow, Iruka-san.” 

“I’ll take you.” Says Gai, but you shake your head. 

“Thanks, but I think we need a little time.” 

He looks conflicted, but relents, nodding, and then quickly adopts a bright grin and his usual dynamic timbre of voice; 

“I’ll be ready to hear the tail of your heroic battle tomorrow, then!” He says, to Naruto, and is rewarded with a weak thumbs up.

The way home is quiet, aside from Naruto’s occasional sniffle, but he seems to have calmed down some by the time you make it home. You deposit him on the counter as you go to wet a warm washcloth and retrieve an ice pack from the fridge. 

“I’m sorry!” He blurts as soon as you press the warm washcloth to his eye. You blinked. Of all the things for him to say, an admission was the last one you’d expected. 

“So you did start the fight,” You say, you try to keep your tone neutral, but he casts his eyes downward anyway, dejected. 

“I wasn’t trying to. I didn’t want to.” He says, voice pleading, “I was trying to be good, I promise.” 

You pull up a chair, wiping at a crusted bloody cut on his right eyebrow. 

“Tell me what happened.” 

“This guy...I dunno where he was from, I didn’t see him last year. He was picking on that little girl from the park- the one you asked me to find out her name? He was saying all kinda stuff about her family and making her upset. So I told him to quit it, and then he started s-saying all kinds of stuff about me, a-and about you.” 

You felt a twinge of anger stir inside you again, rekindled from earlier, but kept your tone neutral as you swabbed dirt off his chin. 

“What kind of stuff?”

The answer came out through hiccuped sobs, poorly contained as you concentrated on cleansing the dirt from his whiskered cheeks,

“He said…that you...that you weren’t my real mom. That my real mom and dad got rid of me because I was some kind of a monster and th-that you- that you were only keeping me because the hokage made you and that- that you didn’t really want to, and…” 

“Did you believe him?” 

Through what is now nearly blubbering, he doesn’t seem to hear you at first. 

“Huh?”

“I said, did you believe it? The stuff he was saying?” 

“No,” He says quickly, “Because it isn’t true, any of it- right?” 

You soften, brushing some of his dirtied blonde hair from his eyes, 

“Of course it isn’t.” You crack a smile at him, “Do I seem like the kind of person that does whatever the hokage tells her, even if she doesn’t wanna?” 

Despite himself, Naruto smiles, “Nah, you’re too stubborn.” 

“You got that right. The hokage couldn’t make me stop taking care of you if he tried.” You pinched his cheek, not hard enough to be painful, but he played along, struggling out of your grasp, “You’re stuck with me, kid.” 

He grins finally, grappling the ice pack from your hand and juggling it happily. You place your hands on your hips,

“So who hit first, you or him?” 

Deep blue eyes look deeply into yours, before he loses nerve and glances downward. 

“I did.” He mutters, swinging his legs back and forth,

“Thank you for telling me the truth. But, if you didn’t believe him, why did you hit him?” 

“Cause’ he wouldn’t stop. And he was…he kept acting like he knew all about me. He said he’d heard of me from the other kids and…”

Your resolve snapped then, for just a minute. You gathered him into a hug, holding him tightly. He smelled like dirt and sun, and you let out a long breath against his hair as he held you back, confused but complacent. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmured against the top of his head,

“For what?” He asked. 

“I wanted you to have a good day at school.” 

“It’s OK!” He piped, “I’m used to it. Don’t be sad.” 

You bit your lip, still holding him where he couldn’t see your face. Nothing he could have said in that moment could have made you sadder; but you hated that now he was growing concerned about  _ your _ feelings, so you swallowed roughly and released him, turning to rinse off the icepack and hand it back. 

“There’s always tomorrow,” you managed, “Now, let me see that cut on your forehe-”

You stopped, mouth falling open soundlessly in shock- your hand paused less than an inch from his cut. Before your eyes the wound was healing itself; you watched as a barely perceptible wasp of smoke rose from the jagged gash, the skin curling forward to meet itself, burning off the clotted blood and forming new pink flesh in place of the old. In a half second as you stood and watched, uselessly, the injury had vanished completely, leaving only the dried blood in its place.. 

_ There it is,  _ you thought, heart hammering in your ears,  _ the kyubbi.  _

“What’s wrong?” Asked Naruto, and you suddenly became acutely aware that you were staring at his forehead in what must have looked like abject horror. 

“You're a mess, that’s all.” You counter, “You’re gonna need a bath tonight, that’s for sure.” 

“Hmph. I had one  _ last  _ night.” He complains, instantly puffing his (also fully healed) lip, 

“Well it’s not my fault you decided to go and brawl your first day of school.” You parry, pressing the warm washcloth to his head and finally smoothing away the dried blood, and he stuck his tongue out at you. 

“So other than the fight, how was it?” 

“Pretty good!” He says happily, “Iruka-sensei tried to go over the rules and what we were gonna learn but he kept getting interrupted. This kid Kiba that Choji knows- he’s crazy, so we’re friends now.” 

“Poor Iruka,” You chuckle, “but that’s great that you made a new friend. Did you meet anyone else?” 

“Not really, mostly everyone is there from last year. There’s Sakura-chan- she’s gonna be my girlfriend someday- I wanted to sit next to her but Iruka-sensei wouldn’t let me. And there’s Ino- she’s Shika’s friend, but they don’t really like each other. And there’s this other boy who plays with bugs but I don’t remember his name. And this jerk whose name is always on the wall with the top of the class…” 

You listened as he rambled on, happy that the fight was (temporarily) forgotten as you finished cleaning him off and finally sent him upstairs for a real bath. 

“Ichiriku’s tonight,” you promised before he could complain, “to be clear you’re  _ not _ being rewarded for getting into a fight; i just don’t want to cook.” 

and like magic the tribulations of the day were forgotten, and he was the happiest (and loudest) child in the world once again. 

******

When he was fed (Teuchi, who was quickly becoming your favorite person in the Leaf, had once again refused your money on the grounds that he didn’t charge for “medicinal ramen”, apparently, Naruto had always gotten his for free when he’d come after being in a fight) and been brought home and put to bed, you sat on the patio by yourself, staring out into the evening. 

Iruka had left a note slipped under the door for you, asking you to come to a meeting tomorrow about the fight, and asking as well that Naruto be kept home per procedure. Your stomach churned when you had told Naruto about it, but he took it well, if a bit too easily; clearly, no matter how you felt about it, he thought he knew where he stood with the school, and that was in trouble. 

But that wasn’t what kept you up even though your muscles were sore and your new bruise was aching, and you desired nothing more than a hot bath and long sleep. It was what he had said as you tucked him in that night, both hands closing around one of yours as you went to brush his hair out of his forehead for a kiss; 

“Hey, who were my first parents?” 

You must have looked like a caught fish; staring at him slack-jawed, because after a second he averted his gaze and said quietly, 

“Nevermind.”

“No, it’s alright,” you rectified quickly; “Just- you probably know more about them than I do, I’m sorry to say.” 

Naruto pulled the coverlet up so that only his nose and eyes peaked over it. 

“I don’t know  _ anything  _ about them,” He said, “The old man always said it didn’t matter and that talking about them wouldn’t bring them back. I guess maybe nobody knows.” 

_ That isn’t true, though _ , you remembered very suddenly, the hokage had told you they were martyrs to the village. You drew your lips into a thin line, displeased.  _ Surely  _ that couldn’t be too dangerous to tell him? A couple of names? 

“I’ll tell you what,” You say, tucking him in securely, “Day after tomorrow when you go back to school, I will go find something out about them for you, I promise.” 

He smiles, “OK,” and before you can react, undoes all your tucking-in by bouncing up to give you a sloppy kiss on the forehead. 

“I love ya, Mom. Goodnight.”

Now, as you watched the last rays of the sun color the evening sky purple and orange over the Uchiha compound past the treetops, a steaming mug in your hand, you tried not to dwell on why he had asked. It was a natural curiosity brought on by the boy at school, you repeated. But still, you couldn’t help wondering about them yourself; whoever she was, his real mother; you were doing her job. You wondered what she would think of you, and your over-crowded sunroom and his hand-me-down clothes and your often less than saint-like temper. 

You went to take another sip of your tea, and almost spilled the whole mug on yourself when a voice from behind you said,

“How is he?” 

The anbu. You whipped up, setting your tea down, and, hands on your hips, and stomped up to him.

“Oh, so you know already.” You said, “And where, pray tell, were you today? I thought your ‘assignment’ was to protect him, or is a schoolyard brawl below you?” 

“Hell hath no rage like a mother scorned.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I was on an assignment.” He said, voice solemn, “Besides, Umino-san is a chunin and the academy is a fairly secure location. It was agreed upon that while he was there, he wouldn’t need my supervision.” 

“Well clearly, he did.” You groused, but knew there was no leg for you to stand on in this argument. You could no more blame the anbu than Iruka, or yourself for that matter. 

“How is he?” The silver-haired man asked again. 

“He’s alright,” You replied, “I mean; he was shaken up. He had wanted...he had wanted this year to be different, to get a good fresh start this year, and so did I. But I guess he just doesn’t get that.” You pressed a hand to your temple, calming yourself, “So we’re a little upset. But we’ll live.”

“He didn’t hurt the other boy?” 

“The other…” You squinted at him, as if pure will could allow you see through the dog-mask and get an idea of what he was thinking. “The other boy was two years older,  _ and _ he had his friends with him. According to Iruka he didn’t have a scratch on him, so i’d say he came out on top.” 

“He can’t be allowed to attack other children,” He said coolly, “If he let his emotions run rampant, he could…” 

“Oh spare me.” you brushed past him, taking your cup inside, “that’s really all you people really care about, isn’t it? Whether or not the fox had anything to do with it. Well you’re overestimating how much it cares, obviously. It let him take the beating and healed him afterwards.” 

Angrily, you reached for the faucet and ran water through your cup, back turned to the shinobi. 

“Nevermind what  _ prompted  _ the fight, nevermind that he still doesn’t know why other kids treat him that way, nevermind that he thinks it’s something  _ he  _ did that…” 

You turned, suddenly privy to the silence. The anbu was gone, or at least, pretending to be. You vaguely sense his suppressed chakra somewhere nearby. 

“Damn shinobi,” you repeated, picking up Iruka’s letter and slamming it onto the countertop, “You’d better make yourself available tomorrow when I have to go to this meeting, or you’ll regret it.” You call to the empty air, “I’m training with Gai now, so don’t doubt for a minute that I can take you.” 

There was no response, but you felt the chakra ebb and then fade, so you assumed he’d heard you. 

*****

Iruka had little to say when you met with him the next day, after letting Naruto sleep in and giving him a big breakfast, setting him up with some coloring and ensuring the anbu was around to watch him as you slipped away at lunch time. As you sat in the office across from the teacher he looked truly harried and tired; clearly this hadn’t been the smooth start to the semester he’d envisioned either. 

“The boy Naruto fought with was an exchange student,” He said, “On a program here from the Rain village, he’s been here off and on for about a year. The other two are local; they have reputations as troublemakers, and I’ve caught all three of them picking on Naruto before. They won’t attack him unprompted though; their tactic has always been to goad him verbally into taking a swing at them. It makes it harder for me to punish them that way.” 

You pull on the hem of your shirt sleeve, “And  _ will _ they be punished?” 

Iruka mirrors your movement, nervous. “Well that’s the thing. After I got back from taking Naruto home, I went to talk to the boy’s guardians- he lives with a couple of nin that are here as an envoy- and they made such a big deal out of it. They said they were appalled at all his bad behavior and had decided to take him back to the Rain village immediately. Apparently they were already planning to deliver a report, so they left this morning and told me he wouldn’t be back.”

You sat back, confused. “That seems...drastic.” 

“That’s what I thought, and even though I won’t lie- having that boy out of my class is a relief...I told them it wasn’t necessary, but they insisted.” 

“Hm.” You said, and let the issue lie. 

The rest of the meeting was cursory procedure; Iruka had you sign an incident report, and then told you the fight would have to go on Naruto’s school record. 

“But considering how many are on there already, one more won’t make much of a dent.” He said, possibly meaning to be encouraging. It was not. But worse than any of that was the realization that this meant Naruto wouldn’t be getting his name on the wall of top students; his personal goal for this year, since that required no marks on your record. 

“I’m sorry,” Said Iruka when you told him about Naruto’s excitement at the prospect, “There’s always next semester.” 

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to Might Gai’s back.” You said, recalling the man’s overenthusiastic promise. But still, you dreaded delivering the news all the way home, and was still dreading it when you came in the door. 

As soon as you did, though, Naruto bounced up to you; face stained with the paints you’d left him with, babbling excitedly before making a U-turn back into the kitchen. 

“I caught him! The forest spirit! Come see before he vanishes!!” 

You rushed in behind him, scared of whatever animal he must have wrestled from the bushes and brought inside; what you found shocks you far more than that. The anbu is in your kitchen, kneeling on the floor, hands behind his back, entwined loosely in the thin rope from the ninja play kit you bought Naruto. Upon Naruto reentering, he pretends to struggle apathetically, keeping careful hold on the ropes so that he doesn’t accidentally free himself. 

“Release me, human,” He declares, “or I’ll turn you into a fat toad.” 

Naruto sticks his tongue out, clearly relishing his victory. 

“No way! If you could do that you’d have done it already.” He says, and then turns to you proudly. 

“See! See! I caught him sneaking up behind me when I was trying to get more paper off of the top of the fridge! I slipped and landed on him!” 

You cringe, glancing apologetically at the dog-masked figure humiliated on your floor in thanks. Obviously, it was this or let Naruto break his spine, and he chose the former.  _ Thanks _ you tried to mouth to him, but had no way of knowing if he saw it. 

“He’s the one that stopped the rock from hitting Shikamaru,” continued Naruto as though this were a masterful deduction, “So I think he must be a good forest spirit. But don’t worry, I tied him up just in case.” 

“You did a very good job,” You said, “I’m impressed. Very few people have the skills to catch a forest spirit. But you’d better set him free now.” 

Instantly his face falls. “Aw, no way! Why?” 

“A forest spirit can’t live indoors.” you say sagely, “They’ll die if they’re away from the trees for too long, isn’t that right?” 

“Hm? Oh! Yes, that’s true.” agrees the anbu, “In fact, I can’t feel my life force draining as we speak.” 

“Oh no!” Naruto squeals, and instantly drops to his knees behind him to begin trying to untie his own knot, but pauses; “you won’t really turn me into a frog when your hands are free will you?” 

“Not this time,” Says the anbu, “I have too much respect for such a strong fighter. You caught me fair and square.” 

Naruto goes back to pulling at the thin thread with a grin, and you try to hide your own as you set about pulling lunch ingredients from the cabinet. Once he’s finally gotten the ropes off the anbu stands, pretending to test his wrists as if he were really restrained. 

“Will you come back to visit?” Naruto asks hopefully, and even though you’re not facing him, you know he’s using those impossible-to-resist blue eyes of his to their full capacity. 

“Uh…” Says the anbu

“If you come back, my mom will make you a really good dinner.” 

“Oh  _ will  _ I?” You whinge, but Naruto ignores you. 

“Alright, alright!” the masked man finally relents, “I’ll come if you  _ promise  _ not to feed me her cooking; we forest spirits aren’t immune to poison you know.” 

He disappeared just in time to dodge the metal spoon you threw at him, leaving Naruto rolling with laughter on the floor. 


	7. Part the Seventh: Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go badly, quickly. But isn't that always the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter that I have done, and I haven't had time to edit it or even re-read yet, so please bear with any spelling errors/omitted words you might find. A few more cameos this chapter and- a bit of a tone shift. The next chapter will be the end so, please bear with me.

It was with an unshakeable anxiety that you saw him off to school the next day. 

Of course there was no reason for it. The bully was gone. His two lackeys were detention-bound and Iruka had promised to take his lunch outside in the yard where he could keep an eye on them (poor, accommodating Iruka). Still when you hugged him goodbye outside of the academy entrance that morning- squeezing him so hard he squeaked in protest- you had the overwhelming feeling that you shouldn’t let him go. Nerves, you told yourself. Just nerves. 

The next order of business was with your promise. You had all day to find something out about Naruto’s parents; he would be at school, and then meet Gai for training afterwards. You had until dinner, and yet, the curiosity threatened to overwhelm you. So before the late opening of your shop and the hustle and bustle of the village began, you kicked the dust up on your way to the hokage’s offices, nodding at the receptionist as if she were an old friend and barging through the doors. 

Hiruzen Sarutobi blinked at you, eyes adjusting to the obtrusion in his light, likely miffed to see anyone so early in the day and likely twice as miffed to see you,

“Ah, Miss y/n, to what do I owe the pleasure?” but before you could begin, he continued, “Don’t tell me there’s more trouble with Naruto, please. I heard of the incident the day before last.”

“I’m not here about that,” You say quickly, “I want to know- well, I want to know something about his parents.” 

The old man paused in his shuffling of papers. His hand, somewhat palsied, stiffens over the stack. He looks at you from under heavy brows. 

“I’ve told Naruto many times, speaking of the dead won’t bring them back.” 

“No, but it will bring  _ him _ some peace.” You say, “He’s been asking about them and well, I think he deserves to know something. At least, their names-”

“I’m afraid that is the first thing he must not know.” He rose, and paced to the large window, hands clasped behind his back. “Perhaps if I tell you- in confidence, you can understand why. But I cannot allow the knowledge to become commonplace. And children - Naruto particularly - are notoriously bad at keeping secrets.” 

“All right,” You respond, “As long as there’s something about them I can pass on.” 

“You’ve heard, of course, of Minato Namikaze- the Yellow Flash?” 

“Well of course,” you say, expecting the train of thought to follow some logical course from there. But he’s silent, allowing you to puzzle it out, and you do; and suddenly conjuring an image of the man you’d never met but seen in photographs is all the clue you need. Clans knew of other important figures and seven years ago- when you had been in your early teens- no one had been quite as important as Minato Namikaze. Now it all fell into place at last; the old man doddering at the desk, far past retirement; the wide blue eyes clear as a summer lake and the unruly golden hair. 

Your mouth felt suddenly dry. “The yondaime? The...lord fourth was his father?!” 

“And his mother was Kushina Uzumaki, the daughter of that unfortunate clan- herself the jinchuriki.”

This name was meaningless to you; if the hokage had married in his short term, the news had never reached your village. Still, there was a name to go with the woman who you were usurping. 

“And they both died that night? The fox…”

“Kushina died when it was removed from her,” Said Hiruzen, quickly as though the words left a bad taste in his mouth; “Minato died attempting to shield her and Naruto. I was there. I saw them die; the last thing he ever did was to seal the fox within Naruto. He believed it was best, for him and the village. Naruto is his legacy; but this is also why he cannot know, do you understand?”

You didn’t. It seemed more of a personal wound than a true reason. But you said, 

“Just tell me what they were like. Not their titles. As people. That’s what I want to tell him.” 

And he did. As best an old man clearly unused to such emotional vulnerability could, he told you. Kushina with her fiery temper and her fearlessness and eccentricities; she seemed like someone you would have liked. Minato, with his calm and unwavering ambition. Just from the halting words of an old man you could hear Naruto in both of them. 

“Thank you,” You said when he was done, “It will mean a lot to him.” 

“You care very much for that child, don’t you?” He asked, and didn't wait for you to answer, “I wasn’t sure at first. I admit I was suspicious that a newcomer would want to take on such a responsibility from pure charity.” 

“It wasn’t charity,” You said, “I’m not a particularly charitable person. It was just decency. And he- it’s been, well, it hasn’t been so difficult after all.” You smiled, and the words filtered out into the sunny morning like some kind of dare, drenched in irony. 

*******

Your head felt like it was spinning as you left the hokage’s office. There was simply too much to parse. The lineage of this child was more impressive than you could imagine. Would he be happy to hear it? Would it put too much weight on him? 

Either way, you decided, you were going to tell him what you could. Not only did he deserve to know- you glanced up at the carved head of Lord Fourth, bathed in early morning light- but they deserved to be remembered by him. You envisioned what the hokage had told you; a dying Kushina handing off her son for the last time, knowing she’d never get to see him grow up, and felt sick. It was only fair. 

The bakery was far too quiet, you realized around lunchtime. Today was his first long day of school; he wouldn’t be home until dinner. It hadn’t been a slow day; in fact it had been bustling in places; but even with the steady stream of customers, beeping ovens, the bell on the cash register and the offhand conversations the day seemed inundated with silences. And now, eating a quick meal in the kitchen with the sign turned “out to lunch” the day felt long, quiet and boring. 

Finished too quickly, you went to clean up the seemingly endless pile of paper he’d been coloring with yesterday before his forest-spirit-hunting career, frowning at the crayons and markers scattered in a four-foot radius around his spot. As you went to gather the sheets of paper one caught your eye. 

He’d redrawn his masterpiece from the school wall. You recognized the field of flowers; different in composition and color but with the same open landscape of scribbled background dotted with criss-cross stars. Over this was himself; represented by his stickman legs and round face covered in yellow scribbles and punctuated with his whiskers in too-long jagged lines. He still held the ramen bowl (a bigger, improved one now) in one hand. In the other, though, he clutched the stick hand of another figure. This one taller; with wild scribble hair and a wide clown’s smile of lipstick.  _ You _ . There was no more particular care given to this drawing than any of the others; it was among a pile of many, but you dusted off the broken crayon pieces reverently, and pinned it to the recipe board above breadstone. Not a very flattering picture, but you liked it nonetheless. 

As you pinned it there, sticking a tac through the soft corkboard, it hit you again; the strong, irrational sense of anxiety from this morning. Some horrible sixth sense that something was wrong. But nothing was; there was no foreign chakra in your vicinity, Iruka did not come busting down your door to say there’d been another fight. Naruto was at school, under the watchful eye of his teacher, and the anbu. It was foolish mother’s anxiety, old wives’ tales you were too young for. You squashed it down, patted off your apron and opened the story back up early. 

The day passed. Yoshino came by with a friend of hers, a homely woman named Mebuki who’s daughter was in the academy grade as well, and three of you had a cup of tea and a long chat, airing out the trials and tribulations of raising second graders and laughing, finally, as true begrudged equals. When they left around closing time you felt both more cheerful and truly middle aged, flipping the sign to closed and setting about cleaning up. It was time for the academy to let out; Naruto would be walking the short trek to training ground 9 to meet with Gai, who would no-doubt do everything in his power to cheer him up from his setback yesterday. With this in mind, you decided to treat him to dinner when he brought him home; to treat today like a celebration, the first  _ real  _ day of school. 

By four-thirty you were clearly going overboard. The light was yellow and warm. The bakery smelled like the freshly cut bread, the yeast on the sideboard. There were warm buttered rolls in the oven and a pot of creamy soup on the stove. Everything should have been perfect. And then suddenly Gai was rapping on the window. 

You smiled blithely as you went to open the door, wondering why they had called it quits so soon but pleased they’d be have more time to eat nonetheless. Your eyes quickly moving past him to look for Naruto, finding nothing, and coming back to settle on his face, only to realize he was doing the same. 

“Where is Naruto?” You said at the same time he said, 

“Did Naruto decide to skip training?” 

You met each other’s eyes, both realizing at once what was happening, just as an anbu; not the familiar silver haired anbu, a new one; bounced down from nowhere, tone urgent;

“Please come to the hokage’s office at once, both of you.” 

*****

He was gone. 

Time seemed to be slowing as you stood there in the center of the hokage’s office, processing what you’d been told. A flurry of activity went on around you; anbu and other nin flitting in and out of the windows with reports on places they had checked in the village that all came up the same; he wasn’t there.

It had started when Naruto’s anbu- Kakashi, as they referred to him, apparently no longer caring to keep his identity a secret- had been found unconscious. He’d been ambushed, was the preliminary report from the doctors; caught off guard. There had been a nasty battle; at least five on one, and they’d possibly used the child as collateral to keep him from attacking. It had happened on the short path between school and training ground 9, in that open field bordering the left perimeter; this was not good news. This meant that they were likely out of the Leaf village by now. 

Slowly, as the flurry of reports came flooding in, they pieced together what had happened. The two Rain village envoy’s and the child- Naruto’s little bully- who had left yesterday had been nearly detained at the gates; their papers had raised some flags for legitimacy. They were allowed to leave but informed to bring better documentation if they intended to return. Soon after they left the investigative squad had contacted the Rain village and turned up the truth; there were no envoys stationed in the Leaf. Spies; infiltrating by laying low. It was thought their goal had been the Hyuga heiress; until they had learned of the Jirikichi word-of-mouth. The schoolyard incident had been one way to test the seal; and once their cover was blown, they’d returned for the heist. 

All of this information was delivered to you in workable bite-sized pieces as you stood, swaying, in the hokage’s office, your breath coming in short gasps as you tried and failed not to panic. 

“OK,” was the first word you managed, and then, “Why do they want him?” 

“This is a terrorist organization,” Said Hiruzen, voice distant, “We believe their goal with Hinata Hyuga was to plant her body in another village, probably the Cloud or Sand, to start a war. With the Kyuubi, all they’ll have to do will be to awaken it and set it loose anywhere but here. Since it is the Leaf village’s weapon, that will be enough to start a war with any neighboring villages affected.” 

You reached out blindly and found Gai’s arm, steadying yourself on it. “Oh my God.” 

“Hokage-sama,” Said Gai, beside you, “Permission to go after them. Now, right away.” 

The old man held up a halting hand, being given reports left and right, “Hold on, Gai. We need a direction- how is he?” This was asked to someone entering stage left, a man in a doctor's cloak. He said something fast and low and the hokage nodded. 

“Kakashi will live, but he’s in no condition to travel. I’ll be sending a couple of root operatives instead.” he turned and gave some command to the man beside him, too low for you to hear, before addressing Gai, “You must understand, this concerns the safety of not only the Leaf, but all our allies as well. Once you have gone we will assemble reinforcements to go after you. But this must be handled quickly, and you must do what has to be done.” 

He wasn’t talking to you, but even so, you opened your mouth to ask what he meant by that but was interrupted by two anbu who materialized in the room in front of you. 

These anbu were younger than the other; or merely smaller. One at least was surely a child; he hardly reached your shoulder; dark haired, a long-sword strapped to his back. The other was slightly taller, but there was something in the way he carried himself that made you sure he had hardly passed his teens. He said only, “Yes, Lord Hokage.” to everything he was told. He wore the snub-nosed mask of a cat, red moon symbols encasing his dull dark eyes. Everything he was told was very little; the basics of the mission seemed to have already been filled in for them, and now they were simply given a direction. 

“I’m coming with you,” you heard yourself say. 

“A civilian will only slow us down.” Responded the taller anbu. There was no contempt in his voice; only a rehearsed answer, emotionless. 

“She’s the boy’s mother,” Insisted Gai, “Lord Hokage…” 

“Take her.” Said Hiruzen, waving the oncoming argument away, “She’ll be your responsibility Gai. But do not let her impede the mission; Naruto must be returned to the village, or the fox destroyed.” 

******

For a while your adrenaline pushed you. The heady hot pounding of fear in your bloodstream allowed you to remember what your body must surely have forgotten; the rhythm of distance between one branch to another, from trunk to trunk as you kept up with the group. But it couldn’t last; your body no longer had the stamina, and after a few minutes you were winded, struggling to keep up the break-neck pace, your breath coming out in short gasps as you struggled to maintain the flow of chakra to your feet. Finally Gai, in one swift fluid motion, swept you up and deposited you on his back. 

As you bounced along on his back, trees and wind whipping your face, you wondered vaguely if you’d remembered to turn off the stove. It was such an odd thought to break through your panic-stricken mind. But it grounded you in some strange way; reminding you of home, of the mushroom soup, of the evening you had planned. How had this happened so quickly? You couldn’t seem to wrap your head around it. 

The anbu stopped ahead of you. The taller one indicated a clearing on the forest floor. 

“They’ve stopped,” He said simply, “We need to regroup. Make a plan of action.” 

And they did. Gai set you down, and you staggered a little; legs shaky from the overuse of chakra earlier. The anbu fell together, conversing in hushed tones, and you and Gai exchanged a look before scooting closer to hear them. 

The conversation did nothing to dissuade your fears. 

“If they’re good enough to take out Kakashi-senpai, then we’ll need the reinforcements, that much is for sure.” The older one was saying, “It would be better to wait. But we can’t afford that.” 

“It would have been good to have a medic nin,” Said the smaller one; as you suspected, his voice was that of a teen, “for the boy, if-” he stopped, abruptly, face jerking to you as if just realizing that you were there. 

“If what? If  _ what?!”  _ the anbu were not ones to mince words. if he wasn’t telling you something, it was bad. 

Finally Gai’s voice broke the silence, “If their intention is to set the fox loose, then they’ll need to awaken it, at least partially.” He paused, swallowed, “and unless they have a master at seals the easiest way to do that is to threaten the kyuubi...by harming Naruto physically.” 

You felt a deep pang of fear go through you, your mouth suddenly going dry. 

“You mean...they’ll torture him?” 

The set of Gai’s jaw was tight. The taller anbu said, “We don’t know yet.” 

“But he’s just a little boy!” You knew it didn’t matter. Not to the Root anbu and certainly not to the terrorists. But it still filled you with cold anger. You clenched your fists until you felt your nails pierce your palms. 

“Then why are we stopping?” You said finally, and before you could get the obvious answer, “Their strategy was ambush, and ours should be as well. If we stay here very long, they’re bound to notice and prepare for us.” 

“She’s right,” Said the younger anbu, surprising you, “Despite her reasons. From all accounts their specialty must be overwhelming the enemy. And if they were willing to use the jirikichi as collateral once they’ll be willing to do it again; he need to overwhelm them before that can happen.”

“Fine by me!” Gai practically shouts, “Let me at em’!” 

He’s adopted his regular way of speaking but there’s a hint of real anger under the surface. 

The older anbu seems to consider for a minute, and nods, tawny brown hair bobbing. “Alright, let’s move in closer.” he turns to you, “Can you suppress your chakra enough to not be detected?” 

“I think- yeah, I can still do it.” 

“And can you control your emotions?” He takes your pause after this question in stride, 

“I mean, no matter what we might see when we approach, can you stick to the plan we make and only move on my call?” 

“As long as it involves getting Naruto back, then yes.” 

He nods, apparently satisfied. 

It takes little effort to remember how to suppress your chakra. Unlike with tree jumping this doesn’t rely on your stamina, and it comes back to you naturally, like riding a bike. You approach the clearing where the men have stopped, creeping through the underbrush silently. It’s nearly dark now; the woods are loud with the sounds of late summer, insect noises and nightbirds. The twilight casts deep shadows and makes stealth easy; the two anbu simply vanish as you move in closer; but Gai stays in your peripheral, which you’re thankful for. 

There are seven men in the camp. Two are treating injuries;  _ thank you, Kakashi _ , and one is unconscious, but it’s hard to tell if he’s injured or merely napping. Three more are posted as guards, vigilant, and with chakra signatures that indicate they’re trained killers. But they don’t interest you; the only one that does is at the far end of the camp. A burly man, bald with wet eyes staring out of his pink face. But he didn’t interest you either, really; just what he was guarding. Naruto, tiny, darling Naruto with his wild mop of gold hair and that too-small white T shirt you kept telling him not to wear and that he kept wearing anyway, hidden under his jacket. 

He was tied to a tree. Secured there by an almost comic amount of rope for such a small child. Relief flooded you. He didn’t look as if he’d been tortured;  _ yet,  _ but he was clearly terrified. Despite his terror, though, evident in his wide eyes and his shaking lip he was arguing; as you and Gai crouched in the bushes his voice carried and you could hear him berating the man, demanding he be let loose and threatening to tell the forest spirits what they’d done to his friend and you wanted to laugh and cry. 

There was no time, though. The younger anbu materialized between you and Gai (apparently, a common tactic of these freaks) and said in a voice almost as inaudible as the shadows, 

“Left and center you, he the right and the sleeping man. I’ll take the injured. Wait three seconds and go.” 

And he was gone again before you could begin trying to make heads or tails of it. Of course, he was speaking to Gai, who turned to you and nodded. 

“Watch the big one, he’s more dangerous than he looks. Call me if he comes near Naruto.”

And then the two anbu undisguised their chakra in an instant, and suddenly kunai were flying and the heady scent of blood filled the air as the first man was impaled by the trunk of a large tree that seemed to sprout from the ground. The two men on the far side of camp screamed; you couldn’t see what was happening to them. And Gai did something...intense that sent an insane surge of chakra rippling through the battlefield, the aura of it sparking off of him like a wildfire. This was enough to distract whoever wasn’t already trying to kill the wood user and other anbu; it left only the brawny man, stationed near Naruto; and at this moment you thought you could rip  _ him  _ apart with your bare hands. 

You pawed your kunai pouch. You knew you shouldn’t but your rational brain wouldn’t listen to you.  _ I can make it! I can save him while the rest are distracted!  _ Mostly you wanted to see if he was OK. To tell him it was gonna be OK. And once you had him you could slip away, meet the reinforcements on their way in, get him to safety, home to the bakery and the mushroom soup...

And then the man moved. Maybe he saw that the battle wasn’t going to end well for them, maybe he wanted to make a last-ditch effort to release the kyubbi and accomplish their suicide mission; maybe he thought depriving the leaf village of their weapon was good enough. He held a kunai in his right hand, and with his left he grabbed Naruto by his hair, wrenching his head back painfully and exposing his throat. Naruto let out a choked little squeak and kicked at him futily with his stubby legs; but the momentary distraction was long enough. You came at him from the side, roundhouse kicking him in the ribs; pooling whatever chakra you had left there so that when your foot connected you felt the satisfying crunch of bone exploding beneath the skin. He flew back, bouncing once off the ground and rolling to a heavy stop; unfortunately, you knew he wouldn’t stay down. You turned and started to tear at the ropes with the kunai, sacrificing precision for speed...you just had to get him out...away...

A searing pain shot through your arm, sudden and piercing, ripping a scream from your throat that died in the sounds of battle. A kunai had come from the man’s comrade a yard away, narrowly missing your neck and stabbing through your shoulder below the bone, impaling it. You turned, putting your back to the tree, and tried to grab at it blindly, with the idea to rip it out; but the man, one of the injured, took the opportunity to grab your other arm by the elbow, wrenching it backwards at a painful angle. 

You looked up hazily, and met Naruto’s eyes. Or were they? He was staring at you from where they had tied him, pupils the size of dinner plates. But the eyes that met yours were not the baby blue ones you were used to. As you watched, they flashed with something undefinable; horror giving way to anger, and then the pupils constricted; the color muddied and turned the color of blood. You heard him screaming; shouting wordlessly, angrily; the man must have seen it too, he released you in abject terror, shouting for his comrades; you couldn’t make out his words. 

_ I’m losing consciousness,  _ you realized, right before the world hazed to gray and black. 


	8. Motherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out raising a child with a fox demon inside of them isn't all sunshine and roses after all. 
> 
> {the last chapter is finally up! Sorry for the delay and thanks to everyone who's read/reviewed/left kudos on this self-indulgent little story!}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not crazy about the way this one turned out- writing action scenes is definitely not my forte- but between school and work it has been very hard to find time to focus on writing. However, I am very happy to say that I have most of the first chapter of the Sasuke-centric sequel drafted, so on the off chance you enjoyed this, please stay tuned for that!

You regained your senses in slow motion; or that was what it felt like. The world first hazed through milk-glass, voices and noises blurred as though you were under water. You awoke to pine needles and moss under your nose, as a kunai whizzed into the ground by your head, half-hazardly thrown from somewhere far off. It was the pulsing pain in your shoulder that woke you; and as it seared through your senses you managed to pull yourself upright, groggily attempting to piece together what had happened in the few minutes you’d lost. 

The man who had attacked you had been ripped apart. Eviscerated. Had you had more of your faculties about you, the scene might have caused you to wretch; as it was, you only stumbled away from the gristle and gore, one thought on your mind; 

_I have to find Naruto, I have to save him_

The battle had moved slightly; you passed the broken bodies of two more of the enemy, and through the woods you could hear the others fighting. In your confusion, you didn’t fully register who. You held a hand on your shoulder to attempt to staunch the bleeding; the kunai still stuck there, too deep to pull out without causing more blood loss. As you approached the larger clearing you could see them; one of the anbu, the taller one, had been injured; he stood to the side, weaving handsigns, the front of his vest bloodied and torn. Gai, no longer glowing red, and the other anbu were dodging and weaving; avoiding the attacks of...Naruto. It could only be Naruto; but this wasn’t your son. No matter how much your logical brain tried to tell you it must be. Impossible limbs bent at impossible angles, skin peeled and burned and chakra like a raging wildfire seering and scorching the air around it. It roared and the sound shook the trees; shook you down to your very core.

Time seemed to tick in slow motion as you stood there watching it. Trying to fathom where the little boy in his too-small white shirt had gone under this beast and how on earth you were going to fix this. _The stove is on_ . Your fevered brain reminded you. _And he hasn’t had dinner yet._

The fox; the boy; whatever it was now; did not extend you the same courtesy. Immune to the kunai that were thrown at it, it didn’t take long for it’s hollow-point eyes to find you, and it snarled at the sight of a new target, lunging immediately, it’s limbs stretching impossibly. The anbu saved you; slamming a hand to the ground, a pillar of wood arose, blocking it’s onslaught. It seemed to take his toll on him though; wounded as he was. You turned to thank him but pitched forward, woozily, just barely catching your balance and suddenly becoming aware that you were going to pass out again. 

“I need him to be still!” The anbu was yelling. Not at you, but past you, to Gai and the other, “I have to get close.” 

You swiveled and saw them nod, scattering a half-second later as a behemoth of a clawed hand shattered the earth where they had been crouching. 

It was clear, now, that Gai and the anbu were stalling; trying to figure out a plan that didn’t involve attacking in earnest or perhaps waiting on the fury to subside some. But that wasn’t about to happen; chakra seemed to be leaking out of the beast like a sieve, the air crackled with it; soon there would be no stopping it and then they would _have_ to attack to kill. The anbu, Kakashi’s words came back to you, once again; _That's a lot of power for a child to hold…_

It hit you then, finally, in your groggy half-conscious state. Naruto had been controlling this thing. All this immense power, all this time. He was the only one who could reel it in. And you needed to help him. 

So focused on weaving a new seal was he that the wood user did not immediately notice you walk out from behind him, moving towards the four-tail. Neither did the others; but when they did Gai shouted for you, a shout that got lost as the thing roared again; the sound almost metallic, an eerie grating screech that shook the trees. 

_But Naruto is in there_ , you reminded yourself. 

You recalled the day in the rain; the way he’d thrown his arms around you finally after insisting he hated you. You thought of the many nights he’d curled against you in the dark, arms around your neck, scared he’d wake up and you’d be gone. 

Without thinking too much about it you moved forward; the beast snarled, but did not attack; any minute you expected to feel it’s fiery teeth sink into your body, ripping you in half easily. But you weren’t thinking of the fox; only Naruto; so you moved upwards and, with the monumental effort it took to make your injured shoulder obey; threw your arms around the thing’s neck, hugging it tightly. 

It burned; the chakra seared through your clothing as if they weren’t there; flanking your skin with a dull angry heat. You bit your lip until it bled, the pain jolting you out of your blood-lost haze. 

“Naruto,” You said, in as quiet a voice could still be heard over the roaring in your ears, “Naruto, come on, come back now, we’ve got to go home.” 

For what felt like a long moment, nothing happened. You held your breath; partially against the pain and partially in anticipation of it attacking you; it did not. For the breadth of a second, you held it in limbo; and then the anbu shouted, 

“Now!” and you felt yourself grabbed from behind, wrenched away a second before something erupted from the ground around it, and the anbu lurching past you, slammed his hand into its chest. You heard it roar again; saw a stream of chakra connecting it to the anbu as he pulled away; and abruptly the world began to haze again. You slumped against Gai, who had snatched you from the fray of the fight; and endured a miserable few moments of flitting in and out of consciousness as the anbu worked to seal the beast. 

He succeeded; through the half-cage of wood you saw the red of it’s chakra begin to recede, slowly; peeling away to reveal, inch by inch, little Naruto. First his fingertips; outstretched and then his head; you wanted to cry when it finally dissipated and he fell, limp and tiny. 

“Gai!” Shouted the anbu, “we have to get him to a medic. You take her, I’ll take him.” 

“No,” You take a few steps toward them, panting, struggling to grasp onto the last threads of lucidity but feeling like the ground below you is slipping away, “let me carry him, please…I want him to...I’ll…” 

The thought won’t quite crystalize. But you want him close to you; you know that much. His skin looks mottled and reddened, and he’s breathing heavily, eyes showing white under the half closed lids. 

The anbu that’s holding him turns and nods to somebody, and suddenly everything tilts and blurs, and the world goes black.

*******

You woke only once during the journey home, finding the front of Gai’s green jumper. He was carrying you bridal style, as opposed to the more traditional and efficient on-the-back method, and per your request Naruto was curled in your arms, resting on your stomach. Through a haze of pain, you moved your hand to check his breathing; steady, even and slow. His skin looked better, so either you’d run into the backup forces on the way and he’d had some first aid, or the fox had found fit to heal it’s vessel. You tried to move his hair away from his eyes, but didn’t quite make it; head slumping backwards and out of consciousness again.

****** 

The second time you awoke you were in the hospital. Every part of your body was sore; a dull ache that permeated down the bone. Your left shoulder and both arms were gauzed and wrapped, stiff and hard to move. You tested them first, before checking the room was empty and attempting to slide out of bed. 

Your legs refused your first attempt at standing, and you slid down into the floor. The second time stuck; but they were wobbly and unsure and every step felt like a fall risk. The sky outside your window was dark; deep clouds covered the moon, letting it shine through only in thin strips of silver. There was no telling how long you’d been asleep and this only heightened your anxiety. _Where was Naruto?_

You ran into Kakashi as you attempted to leave your room. The anbu was without his dog mask, wearing a regular black one that covered only the lower half of his face instead, but you recognized him at once from his stock of silver hair. He steadied you by your shoulders when you nearly crashed into him, casting one lazy eye on your pale bandaged form. 

“You shouldn’t be up.” He said, 

You swallowed, painfully, realizing as soon as you opened your mouth that you were desperately dehydrated.

“Naruto,” you croaked, “how is he? Where is he?” 

“He’s alright. The medics did a good job. He hasn’t woken up yet but-”

“He’s not awake?!”

“-it’s been less than twenty four hours, it’ll take longer for his body to heal.”

He releases your shoulders and you let out a long sigh, allowing some of the adrenaline of the last 24 hours to subside. 

“Where is he?” 

“Sleeping, not far from you. And that’s what you should be doing.” 

“Please,” you say, “I’m not going back to bed. I need to see him.” 

The anbu assesses you with his one visible eye for a long moment, and you hold your ground. Then he sighs, and, finally, relents, taking your (sore) arm to guide you down the hallway. 

Naruto looks very, very tiny there on the hospital bed. Like you, he’s bandaged; though in his case, it’s nearly head to foot. The skin that is visible; his face and elbows, looks pink and new as if the chakra cloak had burned through a few layers. The room smells like sanitizer, but beneath it the burning acrid scent of flesh is there. It makes you woozy and nauseous, and you sink into the chair next to his bed, taking one of his hands in yours and wondering if it was always so tiny. 

Kakashi hovers awkwardly in the doorway, as if unsure of whether to stay and supervise. You say, 

“You’re welcome to come in,” but this has the opposite effect, 

“I have to report to the hokage,” He says, “I’ll tell the nurses you're in here so they don’t fly into a panic, though.” 

“Thank you,” You say, “For that and for everything else. They told me you were injured protecting him.” 

“It was my job after all.” He says, but without the anbu mask he’s not quite as unreadable; you catch his eye slipping fondly towards the boy in bed, before he says, “I won’t be on his detail anymore, now that you know my identity. But I’ll be around.” 

“Good. He’ll want to know that the forest spirit made it out all right.” You grin at him, and he returns with an indication of a smile before disappearing down the hall. 

You doze there for what must be hours; not quite asleep, head resting on the hospital blankets listening to the sound of his breathing. You don’t recall drifting off, but when he finally stirs; slowly squirming back into life it jolts you awake. You watch, heart pounding as he regains consciousness; eyelids fluttering halfway open, and hands balling into fists. You don't know how you’re going to explain what happened to him; what the men may have said to him, or the fox, or any of it. But even if you don’t have the answers you want him to know you’re with him. 

Finally his eyes open fully; taking in his surroundings with a hint of confused panic before settling on you. Groggily, he tries to speak, but no sound comes out. He screws his face up, annoyed, and you can’t help but chuckle as you reach for the cup of water by his bed. 

“Here,” You say, helping him drink some of it, 

He swallows, testing his throat, “what happened?” He manages finally, his voice comes out rough, the squeak of an unoiled door hinge. 

You take the glass of water from him, setting it back down. “You don’t remember?” 

“Huh-uh. My head feels kinda…” He squints, as if trying to see backwards into his own mind, “muddy. Like I got dirt in it. And- _ow_ I’m sore all over. Did I have another fight?” 

You smooth away the hair that's fallen into his eyes, propping up the pillows behind his head so he can rest against them. “Just take it easy. What do you remember?” 

His features settle into a pout, the default look of a heavy thinker. “There was a...a gang of bad guys- they jumped out and surprised me on the way to training. And then the forest spirit...he got hurt and...they grabbed me and ran off. Then it’s all...it’s all kinda blurry…” 

_That’s plenty_ you think with no small amount of relief. But you say, 

“Well, the good news is forest spirit is all right. I saw him just a little while ago and he says he’s looking forward to coming over for dinner.” 

He looks pleased, reaching past you to gulp down more water. “But what happened to the bad guys?” 

“I beat them all up.” You say, and with your one good hand, strike a heroic pose. “They’re erecting a statue of me in the village square.” 

“You did not!” Laughs Naruto, and sticks his tongue out at you. 

“Did too!” 

His eyes rove you, and eventually notice the bandaged wounds on your shoulder and arms, blood soaking through in a couple of spots where you’ve irritated it, and his face falls. 

“You got hurt.” He says, grimly. 

“You should have seen the other guy.” 

“Did you get hurt ‘cause of me?” 

“No,” You say firmly, “Don’t start blaming yourself for things, kiddo. It doesn’t do you or I any good.” You trace one of the whisker imprints on his cheek- his skin feels hot to the touch, and he giggles and squirms, “I got hurt going to get you back and I’ll do it again and again. I’m your mom, remember? You're stuck with me.” 

“Right!” He says, and then yawns, “I’m tired. Are you gonna stay in here?” 

“Sure I will, until the doctors make me leave, and if they do I’ll be right down the hallway, OK?” 

“And we can go home soon?” 

“As soon as we can.” 

“Good,” _yawn,_ “cause’ i wanna go home.” 

“Hey, do you know what?” 

“What?” 

“I found out about them- your parents, for you. Do you wanna hear about them?”

A deep sigh, he scrubs his eye with a fist tiredly. 

“Sure, but, I’m real tired so just the important stuff.” 

You stifle a laugh at his flippancy on the subject, 

“Well the most important thing is this; they loved you very much, and so do I.” 

This gets his attention; cerulean eyes blink at you, suddenly overwhelmed with tears. 

“Oh,” He chokes, “That’s good.” 

*****

Hours later the nurse on shift would wake you from where, in a reversal of roles, you’d crawled into his bed to let him sleep against you, kindly but firmly telling you that you needed your own rest. You conceded; allowing them to poke and prod you in your own bed before finally drifting off again. You fretted and fussed about it but as soon as your head hit the pillow you slipped into a deep painkiller-induced sleep and didn’t awaken until sunlight was warming your eyelids through the window. 

The hokage entered, setting his hat on the table by the door and taking the chair by your bedside. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks you and you tell him, fine thanks, never better; brushing past the niceties so he can get to what he wants to say. 

“I’ve been to speak with Naruto,” he tells you, “and so have a few of the nurses. He doesn’t seem to remember anything that would jeopardize himself.” 

You keep your mouth shut so you don’t say, _he seems fairly well jeopardized to me._ Outside your window you can hear the birds singing, and want this conversation, and this hospital stay to be over more than anything. 

“That’s good,” continues the old man, “but you know- this likely isn’t the last time this will happen.” 

You catch his stolid stare, now free of the good-natured smile he’d entered with, but say nothing as he goes on, 

“The jinchuriki is in high demand, and the Leaf has many enemies. If this group found out about it, then it’s likely others will too. Groups with more power. This will be your life, from now on. And it’s likely to kill you.” 

“Cheery this morning, aren’t you?” you say,. 

“I came here to give you another chance to back out. I think it’s only fair. You’ve seen what he is and what he can do, and the type of people you’re up against. If you decide to opt out now, no one would think any less of you.” 

“Forget it!” You snap, “You’ll have to kill me to stop me taking care of that kid, and until that happens do me a favor and stop asking.” 

Not the most polite way to speak to the hokage, but you were tired and sore and restless, and the very idea of what he was proposing made your heart hurt. 

To your surprise instead of being taken aback by your tone, his formerly serious face broke into a smile. 

“I’m glad to hear it.” He said, and rose, grabbing his hat, “I have the papers to make everything official on my desk. Whenever you get out of here, come around and sign them.” 

*****

The remainder of your stay was punctuated by visitors. First Iruka; the poor man brought ramen courtesy of Ichiriku and was full of gushing apologies for not omnipotently knowing about the spy in his classroom. Naruto seemed utterly baffled by his worry, and when he was finally able to get a word in edgewise just asked if this meant he wouldn’t get in trouble for skipping school. 

“Better,” laughed Iruka, “I’m going to take that fight you had off of your record, and go ahead and put your name up on the achievement wall.”

Naruto’s eyes were starry, “Like with the top students?” 

“Right at the top.” 

“Alright!!” 

Then Gai; himself just discharged from the hospital. You weren’t sure what damage he had suffered, but it had something to do with the technique he had used. He seemed in fine health in Naruto’s hospital room, though, recounting the battle he had missed (tactfully leaving out the part where they had fought him, thankfully) in such loud and boisterous detail that three separate nurses came by to shush him. You finally had to step in and kick him out when he worked Naruto up so much the boy hopped up in bed and nearly toppled out of the window. And Gai went, with many promises to keep training to make him a stronger fighter; so that the next time, he swore, there would be no one he couldn’t beat. 

Lastly Yoshino, bringing Shikamaru and Choji along with her. They perched on the edge of the bed and listened enraptured as Naruto told his own version of the story- one in which he had a far more active role in his own rescue, but you allowed for the little embellishments. His friends were dutifully impressed, and you even caught Yoshino studying him with a fondness she couldn’t quite hide. 

“Quite a little adventure,” was her only assessment of it, however, and then she regarded you with a shake of her head, as if to say, _I warned you_ “You look a mess, you know. But kids will do that to you.” 

Finally, two days had passed, and the two of you were allowed to leave. You were desperate to get back to the bakery; three days out of the middle of the week did not bode well for sales, and although you knew things would recover it would be more difficult to put in the extra work with a hurt shoulder. Still, you had one more stop to make before you got there, and that was to the hokage’s office. He was out, which suited you fine; but the coordinator gave you the papers to sign and left the two of you alone. 

“What’s this?” asked Naruto before you could tell him, squinting at the fine print suspiciously but not actually reading it. 

“If we sign this, it means you’re officially my son. And I’m officially your mom.” You paused, giving him time to think about it, to weigh a heavy decision, “...you OK with that?” 

But the weight of the moment was lost on a seven year old, and he only shrugged, impatiently reaching for the nearest pen, “Sure. Can we have ramen tonight?”

-which was fine with you because it was, after all, just a piece of paper, and Naruto and you had signed the contract sans ink and paper awhile ago. 

*****

Home was just as you’d left it, besides one lost cause of a pot of severely burnt mushroom soup and a note the anbu who’d turned it off for you. He wiggled out of your arms as you came up the stairs, making a dramatic little spin of exhaustion and flopping down onto his bed belly first. He said something muffled into the covers as you went around checking windows, making sure there hadn’t been any further calamities since you’d left.

“What?” 

He popped his head from the covers. “Does this mean I can skip school for the rest of the week?”

“And miss seeing your name up on the wall? You want that?”

“Nope! Nope! I was kidding, you know.” 

“Then, how about hopping in a bath?”

There was no response. You popped your head around the doorway and saw him staring at the ceiling blankly, head dangling off the edge of his bed and feet lazily suspended, mid-kicking the air. There wasn’t sadness in his face or really anything to cause worry, but you set down the pile of laundry you’d been carrying, and came and sat by his side, ruffling his hair. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” 

He drew in a deep breath as if stirred from some deep place of thinking, and looked at you. “Nothing.” He said,

You raised an eyebrow, “Nothing?” 

“I was thinkin’...you know, if I hadn't wanted more ramen that time- none of this would have happened. And I guess I'd still be living in the tall building, all by myself.” 

“you’ll give yourself a headache thinking like that.” you smile fondly at him, “but I know what you mean. We’re pretty lucky, huh?” 

“Yeah. Hey, when I’m hokage, I’ll pay you back for that purse I broke, OK?”

“Your very first political promise! I’ll hold you to that.” 

“My first what?” 

You laugh at him, “Nevermind. Now, bath; dinner.” 

“Bath: dinner.” He says, mocking you jokingly. You pull the blankets over his head and listen to him giggle as he struggles out of it. Outside your windows, sunset starts painting the bakery in warm yellows and oranges. Downstairs in the kitchen, you hum as you set about making him a lunch, preparing dough for the morning; the monotonous tasks of life. 

Upstairs, the sound of his little feet running back and forth on the wooden boards, excited about tomorrow. 


End file.
